Changing for the Better or the Worse
by alsdssg
Summary: Marin was a petty criminal fleeing Dras Leona to escape punishment. Then she tried to steal food from a group of travelers staying in the caves on the plains. That was when everything got started. That was when she realized how many mistakes she made.
1. A Very Lucky Chance

A Very Lucky Chance

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Thank you.

Anil stood erect, holding the chains of a girl who was about his age. It was his first week of duty on Dras Leona's watch, and they'd decided he might as attend the sentencing day.

Because it was his first week and his superiors considered untried and stupid, they'd given him what they called a "petty three-strike". It meant that the prisoner had committed (or rather caught committing) three of the kinds of crimes the city called petty. These were prostitution, picking pockets, tax evasion, debt, etc.

He took the liberty of looking at the girl's hands to appear official. He knew that the higher guards had already examined them to count her prison tattoos, but he was bored nearly to tears, so he would do anything to pass the time. The girl had an orange snake tattooed around her left thumb and a yellow x tattooed on her right. So she was a thief and a whore.

"Whachoo lookin' for?" the girl asked sulkily.

"Why did you commit both crimes?" he asked her.

"If ya can talk so nice, why choo join the watch? Ya gotta be one o' them richies or sommat," she retorted. Anil looked at her. She certainly wasn't a "richy." She was short and skinny with light brown hair that she'd pulled back in a bun using a strip of leather that she'd undoubtedly stolen. Her skin was pale but freckled. She was most definitely a poor street rat.

The girl sucked in her breath after Anil refused to say anything in return and answered his question with, "Honest money's 'ard enough t' come by. So's dishonest money. Honest types' 'arder though. I did whatever I could."

Anil said nothing. He didn't pity her. She'd had two chances to reform her ways. She didn't need a third.

"So, whas gonna 'appen t' me?" she asked.

"Which one did you do this time?" Anil asked her.

"Put my 'and on some richy's purse," the girl replied.

"That'll most likely be fifteen lashes and the loss of your right hand," Anil said.

The girl sucked in her breath. Anil thought he saw a flash of fear pass through her hazel eyes. Well, she should've thought of the punishment before she did what she did.

Marin stared through the crowd. She was looking for an escape. There had to be one. There just had to be.

_Cummon, girl,_ she told herself. _They gave ya a greenie. Ya don get luck like that every day._

Marin knew she'd have to be the one to look after herself. It had been that way since she'd been eleven. Her father's general store had been robbed then, and the thieves had killed him. A group of tax collectors had taken everything and thrown Marin out onto the streets. All she'd gotten was a long daggerthat her father had said had belonged to her mother, who had left three days after Marin's birth.

She kept it hidden in her clothes at all times, and it was by far the most valuable thing she owned. She had had smaller knives, but the guards had taken them all away when they'd thrown her in jail. For some reason, though the guards had discovered every single one of her knives, even the one's she'd hidden in places she'd thought creative, they never found the dagger. That thing was bloody unnatural in Marin's opinion, but she'd never gotten rid of it. She wasn't entirely sure she'd have been able to either.

Of course, she hadn't thought she'd ever have use for it. She'd been optimistic enough to think that she'd find someone who would hire an eleven year old girl and that she'd be able to make enough money to get off the streets. Gods, she'd been naïve. After about a year on the streets, she'd gotten to the point where she managed to be enough money for food to eat every three days. A rich man had been walking by, and Marin hadn't been able to resist the sight of his purse. She'd snatched it quickly before he'd even noticed it and bought enough food with the money to satisfy her hunger.

That man had been fat and stupid, and the next time she'd picked the pocket of a man out of a crowd, a member of that watch had caught her. She'd only spent one night in jail, and she'd earned her first criminal tattoo.

Naturally, she'd been scared stiff by her first time in jail and decided to try to stay clean. She'd found work selling flowers for an elderly woman who was too tired to manage the stall. When her benefactor died, one of the women's sons took everything, and Marin had been without means once again.

That was when things went even more downhill for her morals. She'd needed new clothes, shoes, and some food. She hadn't been able to pick enough pockets and a part of her was still scared to try again. That was when she'd found a new way to make money.

Marin left the city to bathe in Leona Lake every few days during the warm months because her father had always made her do it when he was still alive and she'd wanted to keep at least one of his principles. A lonely middle-aged widower had noticed that she'd been fairly clean and not hideous on the eyes when she'd been skulking around a bar looking for an easy pocket to pick. He'd offered her a single silver crown for one night. Marin had been hungry then too, and that night, at the age of fourteen, she'd turned her first trick. She'd supported herself by that manner for a few months before a member of the watch caught her.

Though she spent two nights in jail this time instead of one, Marin hadn't been nearly as scared by this experience as the last one. She'd decided to take up picking pockets again when she was released, though she still sold herself occasionally.

She'd learned things from her occasional pocket picking customers, and she'd gotten better at the job herself. She could sprint fairly fast, and sometimes her fear of getting caught a third time could give her enough adrenaline to keep up a fast pace for almost ten minutes. Unfortunately, she'd misjudged a prospective pocket to be stupid, and the woman had shrieked almost the moment Marin touched her purse. The watch caught her with ease. This time, she'd spent three nights in jail and was about to be subjected to sentencing. She knew perfectly well that she might not be able to support herself in any way besides begging after this. The thought frightened her.

"Twelve days in the stocks; two years of indentured servitude," the judge said in a bored voice. He didn't even look at the man's face. Marin snapped out of her reverie and put her head up.

_Oh bloody,_ she thought. She would be up there soon.

"I have wife and family to feed," the man protested. "Please, be merciful."

"Twelve days in the stocks; two years of indentured servitude. Two time failure to pay debt. That's what you get. You'd best get to your sentence," the judge repeated. He seemed to grow more bored with each word. Two members of the watch seized him.

Marin was considering the best way to get away from her guard. Her hands were bound, and he seemed much stronger than she. Maybe a good kick to the groin? But everyone would notice. Ugh.

Her eyes fell on a key in the boy's right pocket just a man ran into the square.

"Next," the judge called.

"Stop everything! Criminals are getting away!" the man shouted.

"I said next," the judge repeated. Marin wondered if he was slightly deaf.

"Drop everything! Chain the petty three strikes! I don't care! All I know is that if we don't catch whoever's getting away, Tábor'll have our heads if the king doesn't have his first!" the man shouted.

Marin grabbed the key from the guard's pocket as he turned his back to look at the man. He wrapped the chain attached to her handcuffs around a ramshackle building and dashed off to catch the serious criminals. So did everyone else. She looked around and saw no other petty three strikes. She almost laughed. She'd been last in the sentencing line and failed to notice. Thankfully, the judge had been ushered away to sentence the soon to be caught criminals.

She couldn't unlock the handcuffs with the key. She just couldn't hold it properly and unlock something the way she was bound. Marin squeezed her hand shut and pulled on it while pushing against the building with her foot.

"Ah…ah…ah!" she gasped as she pulled. It hurt like hell, but she'd freed one hand. And she'd dropped the key. She leaned over and tried to pick up the key. She twisted to the left and gasped. She'd already bruised her hand. Did she really have to strain her arm as well? Then again, if she didn't get away, she'd be short a hand, and fifteen lashes would hurt a hundred times worse than this. She found the key in the dirt and picked it up. She turned around and unlocked her other hand.

Because of the way she'd been leaning against the wall, she fell backwards into the dirt. She picked herself up and walked casually towards the gate. She most definitely was not an escaped petty three strike. Gods forbid anyone should think that.

She shoved her hands deep into the pockets she'd cut into her dress/shirt so that nobody would see her tattoos. Thankfully, her hair hid the mark they'd tattooed behind her ear. It meant she'd been caught for a third time. She strode just close enough to a noble lady and pulled a pair of gloves from the woman's left pocket. She quickly shoved her hands back into her pockets. She'd have to flee to Belatona, she decided. They'd have her name down and her markings. Her punishment would be doubled if they caught her again. Oh yes. She definitely had to leave.

As she rounded the corner to the gates, she saw that it was closing.

_Damn,_ she thought. This was not good. She'd have to stay in the city until the morning. But that wouldn't work either. They'd check her hands and possibly her ear. She wanted thirty lashes and two hand amputations even less than she wanted fifteen lashes and one amputation.

Her eyes skimmed the gate. Why weren't there any parts that weren't being guarded? She casually put on one glove and transferred the other one to her other hand. She looked at them. They weren't half as nice as she'd thought they'd be. That might actually work to her advantage. She was about to find out how good she was at acting.

She walked up to the guard and said, "Please, lemme through. Me lil brother wen swimmin' in the lake. 'E ain't come back yet, and 'e shoulda been back an hour ago."

The guard didn't look convinced. Marin forced herself to cry. "Oh, please, cap'n, 'e's me da's only son. Me da'll kill me if I don get 'im back. It was me 'oo tol' 'im 'e could go swimmin', see?"

The guard still looked unconvinced. "Look for him in the morning, girl," he ordered.

"Oh, you're such a fine man. Honestly. I 'ope ya rot in your own piss your dog. Doomin' a lil boy t' death? Ya—"

The guard slapped and her, and she fell on the ground. The gates continued to close.

A group of soldiers rounded the corner. They were chasing two horses. One was white and carrying an old man. The other was gray and carrying a boy about her age.

A crowd separated the soldiers from fugitives.

Those must be the criminals who had given her a very lucky chance. Unfortunately, that chance was turning unlucky with every passing moment.

"Stop them!" a guard from the crowd shouted.

"What?" Marin's guard shouted. The girl took advantage of his distraction and rushed past him.

"Hey!" he shouted.

"Let 'er go," another man ordered. "She ain't worth it."

Okay, I know the first chapter wasn't that good. I hope Marin didn't come across as Sueish. I tried to give her some flaws, but if you think I can do something better or need to avoid doing something, please, tell me in your review. Please, review by the way. The idea of the petty three strike thing came from Tamora Pierce's Circle of Magic Quartet. I changed it a bit though.


	2. Prisoner of a Different Group

Prisoner of a Different Group

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Marin. The rest belongs to CP.

Marin shivered. Why had she taken a bath in the lake? True, she had been covered in dirt and grime from three days in jail, but still. She unrolled her dress so that it covered her leggings, curled up, and went to sleep on the ground. Tomorrow she'd seek the foothills and find shelter among the caves. Then she'd go to Belatona.

Her stomach grumbled as she awoke to the just-breaking dawn. She was hungry. It was shame she couldn't hunt. She didn't own a bow much less know how to use one.

_Foothills,_ she thought blearily. Maybe she'd find food that you could kill with a dagger there. Maybe.

By nightfall, she had reached the foothills. She looked around for a good cave. Some had fallen in, and some were too small for even her to fit through. Around midnight, she found one that would work. She actually congratulated herself on finding it. It was barely visible from the ground, yet she could fit through it.

_Mayhap luck's decided 'e likes ya,_ she thought to herself as she climbed through the entrance.

Her eyes widened at the sight before her. A great blue dragon was slumbering peacefully around a fire that had been built. A boy with a bandaged side was sleeping near it. Marin recognized him as one of the criminals who had given her such a lucky break two days ago. But where was the old man? Her eyes fell on a third person. He was only a few years older than the boy and even resembled him a bit. He was sleeping closet to the entrance. Her stomach rumbled, and the young man stirred just a bit. The dragon snorted in her sleep. At least neither the boy nor the horses had made any movements.

Marin was relieved when neither one of them actually awoke. She was also willing to bet that there was food in those sacks. She'd do anything for food right now. She slowly crept around the young man and opened his sack.

Before she had had time to even rummage through it, Marin felt a hand grab her ankle. She screamed as she was pulled backwards. The boy and the dragon both awoke. The young man who had grabbed her ankle turned her around and grabbed her by the hair as he stood up.

"What are you doing?" he demanded quietly.

Marin thought of what to say. She'd been in this situation before with the watch. They'd yelled of course, but this wasn't very different.

_Oh, t' hell with it,_ she thought. She hadn't been diplomatic then, and she certainly wasn't now.

"Get yawr bloody 'ands off me," she yelled, aiming a kick for his shin. He moved his leg so that her foot only grazed the side of it. He didn't release her.

"Ruttin' swine. Bloody pig. Mangy whoreson," she ranted, her curses becoming fouler and more creative as she kept going.

The man's mouth actually twitched in amusement. Oh gods, was he laughing at her?

"Stop laughin'," she pouted.

"Do you talk like that all the time?" he asked calmly.  
"Oh yeah, all the time," she replied sulkily. Well, maybe it wasn't entirely true, but the man didn't need to know that.

"Well then, you must be missing some teeth," he remarked.

Marin smiled at him showing all her teeth. "I still got 'em all. Not bad for guttersnipe, eh?" she asked. "They'res the one thing I'm vain 'bout."

"Not bad for guttersnipe," he conceded.

"What are we going to do with her?" the boy in the back asked.

"I'm not sure yet," the older one replied. He turned back to Marin and asked, "Instead of cursing at me, would you mind telling us why you were going through my things?"

"I was ravenous 'ungry, honest," she begged. She was scared now.

"It's ravenously hungry," the man corrected.

Marin gaped at him.

He put her down between himself and the fire.

"Should we make her leave?" the boy asked. He paused for a moment. It looked as though he were in silent conversation.

"Saphira says we should keep her close because she's seen us," the boy continued.

"Saphira?" Marin asked.

"The dragon," the boy explained.

"It can talk?" she asked.

"Yes," he said.

"She's right," the man said. "Saphira can guard Marin until morning, and then we can decide what to with her?"

"Guard me?" Marin asked. "Whachoo guardin' me for? I ain't dangerous."

"We don't know that, and we can't trust you to not tell every soldier in hearing distance that there's a dragon in the caves," the man explained.

"We should bury Brom in the morning as well," the boy said.

"Brom?" she asked. The boy pointed at a ledge. Sadness was written across his face. Marin peered at it. The old man who had been fleeing with the boy was lying there stone dead.

"Wha 'appened?" she asked.

"We were attacked by two of the king's assassins. They killed him wounded me," the boy explained. "He saved our lives," the boy added, pointing at Marin's jailor.

"No' exactly 'oo I'd trust me life with," she muttered.

"Would you mind not insulting me with every breath you take?" the man asked. "It'll become annoying before long.

"Can I 'ave some food firs'?" she asked tentatively.

The boy reached into his pack and tossed her a piece of bread. Marin caught it. The man handed her a piece of meat. She gorged herself on them. Both the man and the boy stared at her as she devoured them. She didn't care that she looked like an uncivilized barbarian. She just cared that she was being fed.

"Thanks," she said grudgingly. She laid herself down beside the fire and finally found a semi-comfortable spot on the floor. She was asleep almost instantly. That spot on the cave was more comfortable than most of the spots on the streets she'd found.

Murtagh made his way back into the cave the next morning. He had just finished helping Eragon bury Brom, and he needed to see if the girl had awoken yet. She hadn't. He decided to abandon any pretense at chivalry and poke her. She opened her eyes and rolled over so that she was on her stomach and balancing her chin in her hands.

"Wha'? Mornin' already?" she mumbled.

"Late morning," Murtagh replied. "You missed the burial."

"Oh, sorry 'bout that," she muttered.

"You're coming with us," Murtagh told her.

"Wha'?" she asked.

"We've decided that it's too dangerous to let you wander off on your own," Murtagh explained. He thought to himself, _And you'd probably tell every soldier within range what you had found just to spite us._ He was probably right after all.

He examined her as he hadn't been able to very well last night. She was a waif. Her only distinctive feature was her hawk-like nose. She wasn't very tall, as he had gathered last night, and she was very thin. He supposed one might be able to consider her a little pretty in a common sort of way.

Based on the fact that she was glaring at him right now, he supposed she didn't like him very much. It wasn't as though he was thrilled about her coming on the journey. She seemed to be little more than an annoyance as of now.

"And 'ow am I supposed t' keep up with yous? Yous got 'orses. I don't," she said.

"You'll ride Brom's horse," he explained.

"Brom's the old man, right?" she asked. "I can't ride neither."

Murtagh nodded and then said, "You'll figure it out. The horse isn't mean."

"If you say so," she shrugged. She knew it was probably because neither Eragon nor Murtagh wanted her to ride with them. "Wha' are your names?" she asked.

"I'm Murtagh, the rider is Eragon, and you already know that the dragon is Saphira," Murtagh answered.

"I'm Marin," she said.

Murtagh shook her hand at last. He noticed that she was wearing gloves, and he wondered why. He almost asked her that question but decided against it. Based on what he'd learned of Marin so far, she'd probably start asking questions about his past, and he didn't want to answer those questions. Yes, it would be best if he kept everything on a don't ask, don't tell basis.

They both exited the cave and went to join Eragon.

Well, that's the end of chapter two. I hope you all liked it. I was shocked that I'd already gotten four reviews. Thanks for that. Please, review this chapter as well. Here are the review responses.

Stripysockz: I'm glad you don't think she's a Sue. The accent is hard to write, but she's been living in a filthy city her whole life. How could she be good at speaking?

Ariel32: Well, now she's with Murtagh and Eragon. I'm glad you like Marin. I hope you still like her.

Ebz: I'm glad you don't think she is. I don't know if Sueish is a word, but who cares? Now it is.

Mean titan: Thanks. I surprised myself actually by updating so soon.


	3. Diamonds and Daggers

Diamonds and Daggers

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Thank you.

Murtagh made the slow descent from the cave. Marin, who didn't know the first thing about horses, stayed with Eragon.

"Whacha doin'?" she asked.

"Going to say my last goodbyes to Brom," he told her brusquely. "You've been asleep for two days."

Marin frowned. How could she have slept for that long? It must be that stupid mark behind her ear. Every time the prison guards gave a tattoo, it wore them out and slowed them down. She brushed it off and helped Eragon, whose side had been wounded, make the climb. He thanked her, though grudgingly. She sighed inwardly.

"Look," she said. "I know ya don' like me, but ya gotta a'leas try. I's gonna be an enen longer trip if no'."

"I'm sorry," Eragon said. She leaned over his shoulder and looked at the inscription on the tomb. It read:

HERE LIES BROM

Who was a Dragon Rider

And like a father

To me.

May his name live on in glory.

"He was a dragon rida?" she asked.

Eragon nodded.

"Sorry ya lost 'im," she said quietly.

The dragon put her snout down, and Marin jumped out of the way. The dragon snorted and lowered her snout to touch the tomb. Marin gasped as the tomb turned to diamond.

_I gave him the only gift I could. Now time will not ravage him. He can rest in peace for eternity,_ a female voice said.

Marin looked up. Had that been the dragon? Eragon and Murtagh had said she could talk.

_I thought you needed convincing that I wasn't a dumb rock lizard,_ the voice said.

Eragon stared at her.

"I'm sorry," she told Saphira.

"Sorry for what?" he asked.

"For thinkin' she was a dumb as a rock lizard," Marin replied.

Eragon laughed. They both made their way down the cave and joined Murtagh with the horses.

"So, 'ow do I ride?" she asked Murtagh.

"You don't even know how to ride?" he asked.

"Oh, I do. I was just askin' for me 'ealth," she replied sarcastically.

Murtagh ignored her sarcasm and said, "Just sit in the saddle, and don't agitate him."

"'Ow would I agitate 'im?" she asked nervously.

"If he starts rearing, you'll know you've agitated him," Murtagh continued.

Marin gulped.

"Cadoc's not dangerous," Eragon comforted.

"Thank'ee for no' bein' cruel to some poor, ignorant city girl," she said.

Murtagh started laughing. "I was joking. Eragon's right. The horse isn't dangerous."

"Well, I can 'ardly breath for laughin'," Marin mumbled.

"Marin," Eragon said, "remember what you said to me? That we might as well be nice to each other if we're going to be traveling together?"

Marin sighed. He was right.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"So am I," Murtagh said. They shook hands again, and Marin tried to pull herself into the saddle.

"You put your foot in the stirrup and pull up," Murtagh told her.

She obeyed and did as he said. She gulped as soon as she was up there. Why was the horse so big? Riding it wouldn't be fun.

"Put your hands on the reigns and use them to guide him," Eragon told her. Both boys continued by telling her exactly how to do this.

"I can remember that," she muttered. She hoped she was right.

They stopped for camp around nightfall. They had only just made it out of the foothills. This was probably because of Marin was a poor horsewoman (she'd fallen off Cadoc once) and Eragon was injured. Murtagh didn't seem thrilled about the delay, but Marin was beginning to wonder if the serious look on his face was just his usual expression.

Marin half tumbled, half climb off of Cadoc and slumped gratefully down on the ground. Her rump was sore, but she decided not to complain. It wouldn't endear either of her companions to her, and Eragon had been riding with broken ribs.

After they all dismounted, Murtagh went off to hunt and brought back three rabbits. While he was gone, Eragon changed the bandages on his wound and Marin helped him. She was a bit concerned that she might have made it worse rather than better, but his ugly bruise didn't look as though it had gotten any better. He might have looked okay without his shirt, but the wound was rather distracting. Oh well. One of her customers had given her a black eye that made Eragon's bruise look downright appealing.

Marin was just putting away the dagger she had used to cut the bandages when Murtagh came back with three rabbits. He sat down and skinned them. He then tossed one to Marin and one to Eragon and kept one for himself.

"That's a very nice weapon for guttersnipe," he remarked, turning Marin's comment about herself on her.

"I' was me ma's," she replied.

Murtagh gave her an odd look.

"I didn' know 'er, bu' me grandma said she was a strange 'un," Marin continued.

"Strange in what way?" Murtagh asked.

"Why didn't you know her?" Eragon questioned.

"I didn' know 'er cause she lef' when af'er I was born," Marin explained. It would probably be easier to answer Eragon's first. "Me grandma asked 'er why she wouldn' stay and raise her kid, and she said, 'I don' know 'ow t' be a mother, and I don' wanna.' She was in such a 'urry t' leave that she lef' her dagger. Me da said i' suprirsed 'im. Said me ma favored tha' dagger. Tha' was one o' the reasons me grandma didn' like her, see. She never married me da, and he didn' really wanna marry 'er. Me grandma didn' like tha' neither. I think she was 'appy tha' me ma didn' stay for me. She was prolly afeared I'd turn out like me ma."

Marin stopped for breath and a bite of her rabbit and thought that she probably had turned out just as her grandmother had feared she would.

"Just as long as the dagger isn't an old Foresworn weapon," Murtagh said. "I don't think it is."

"Foresworn weapon?" Marin asked. She'd heard stories about them. They were the king's riders, and they'd all died. The details about them were not known, though Marin was pretty sure none of them had been female. The most famous of them all was probably Morzan. That was the only one Marin knew by name. He also had the worst stories attached to him.

"This sword, Zar'roc, belonged to Morzan," Eragon explained. He picked up his wine-red sheath and drew a long blade of the same color. Marin stared at the sword and gulped subconsciously. She vaguely recalled the name Zar'roc. It'd probably been mentioned by one of the storytellers.

"Anyway, was your grandmother's quest to keep you from becoming like your mother successful?" Murtagh asked, changing the subject.

Marin shrugged. The answer to that was most definitely no, but Eragon and Murtagh didn't need to know about her past. "I dunno. She died when I was eigh', and she prolly though' she failed. I was a bad lil' trouble maker. I played in the streets and such. I didn' talk as nice as she'd learned to talk. Me da didn' care as much. He jus' wanted me t' have some fun. The only time 'e really tried t' keep me from playin' with the streetrats was when 'e taugh' me t' read and write. Or tried t'. I can read okay, but I can' write much more'n me name. I wasn' an eager learner, and 'e didn' 'ave much time t' teach me anyways. 'E died in a robbry when I was eleven."

"I'm sorry," Eragon said. Murtagh nodded in agreement.

"Well, since we're all bein' so nosy, why don' yous both tell me sommat abou' yourselves," she suggested. She couldn't afford them asking anymore questions. She didn't want them to know she had been a thief, and she wanted them to know she'd been a whore even less.

"I think we know all we need to know about you. We're all on the run, and we all need to get away from the Empire. I think that should be enough for now," Murtagh said. Eragon's mouth had been open as though he had been about to tell her some things. He seemed to like Murtagh's idea best, however, because he closed it.

They finished eating and went to sleep. The last words spoken were Eragon's as he handed Marin Brom's old bedroll.

That's the end of chapter three. I hoped you liked it. Who do you think Marin will be with: Murtagh or Eragon? I won't make the romance sappy, I promise. Thanks for the reviews. Keep up the good work.

CelticPuzzleStrangerRangerGrl: Thanks. I'm really happy that you like it so much.

Narnian Sprite: Thanks. Um, what do you mean exactly by not your typical sort of thing? Sorry, I don't get stuff all the time.

Ebz: That's okay. Computers can be weird. There might be a romance between them. You'll just have to wait and see. Also, I hope you liked this chapter.

Mean titan: Thanks. I tried to do that well.

Dragonflame-05: Thanks so much. I tried to make her less of a Sue by giving her a city accent and making her less than decent and perfectly moral. I also tried to make her not so pretty and not so gifted.

Tsumesgirl1: What did I misspell? If you can't remember or don't feel like listing all them, I don't care. I'm glad you like this story by the way.

Stripysockz: I hope I didn't have her meet them too fast, but I didn't think there would be much of a story if she's just running around on the plains and going to Belatona. I'm glad you like the dislike between the two. I was hoping not to over or under do it. The thing about them using each other's names before the introduction was accidental. I think it's because I knew who they were. I should've been more careful about that. Anyway, I'm glad you like it.


	4. Passing around Uru'baen

Passing around Urû'baen

Disclaimer: I don't anything excepting Marin and Anil, who was featured in chapter one and most likely never will be again.

Marin traveled with Murtagh and Eragon for an indeterminate amount of time. She stopped keeping track of the days. She'd done that too after her father was killed and she was thrown into the streets. She asked the date only occasionally, and this was the only reason she knew that she was sixteen and a half.

Eragon and Murtagh could talk for hours on end about archery and hunting, two topics of which Marin knew absolutely nothing. Sometimes they talked of other things, such as where they were going (Gil'ead), the weather (hot), and riding (Marin hated, it hurt Eragon's ribs, and Murtagh liked it). Another thing that often came up in their conversations was politics. Most of what Marin on that subject was about Dras Leoan. The most she knew about politics outside of the city was the name of the king and name of the rebels. Eragon seemed to know more about the king than she did, but less about any of the other cities. Murtagh, however, knew so much about how everything in Urû'baen worked, it was scary. He seemed to know what all the nobles were doing and how that affected everyone else. He seemed to agree with the rest of Dras Leona on the subject of Marcus Tábor. They all thought he was a selfish, arrogant, greedy, spoiled, old fool.

Marin stared at both of her companions at times trying to gage their pasts from their looks and their possessions. Once, Murtagh asked her why she was staring.

"I'm tryin' t' figure ou' oo ya really are," she replied after an embarrassed pauses.

Murtagh gave a short bark of a laugh and asked, "What do you think I am?"

"Well, ya gotta be noble or sommat," she replied. "Ya talk nice, and ya go' good weapons. Eragon's bow's no' so nice as yours, and you're swords nice too. 'E's go' a nice sword too, bu' 'e said the old man gave it t' 'im. And 'e said the old man said 'e stole it."

"And what am I?" Eragon asked.

"You're country," she decided. "Ya talk nicer than me, but no' as nice as 'e does."

Eragon nodded slowly.

"And you've never considered that I could have stolen all this?" Murtagh asked, bringing Marin's attention back to him.

"Tha's an awful lo' t' steal," she remarked. "An' ya ac' like ya know stuff tha' a noble would, and thief wouldn't."

"Clever," Murtagh muttered.

"Wha' do ya make o' me?" Marin asked. She was wondering how much either one of them had guessed.

"You're from Dras Leona obviously," Eragon put in.

Marin nodded. She noticed Murtagh staring at her gloved hands. She didn't ask him what it was. Maybe he wouldn't say anything. She thought there was a good chance he thought she hadn't been anything more than a thief if he thought even that.

The older boy did and said nothing.

"What's wrong?" Eragon asked.

"Wha?" Marin asked once she realized he had been talking to her.

"You seemed tense," he remarked.

She shrugged and spurred Cadoc forward a little. The horse reared up, and Marin took her feet out of the stirrups to wrap her legs around its waist. Cadoc pranced and ran. Murtagh, who had ridden a little ahead, turned back to help her and Eragon spurred Snowfire forward.

Murtagh grabbed the reins and pulled down. Eragon yelled things that sounded like gibberish to Marin. Oddly enough, it calmed Cadoc down.

"That was stupid," Murtagh chided. "He almost threw you."

"I don' know nothin' abou' 'im," Marin protested. "I didn' know 'e wouldn' like it'."

"At least she stayed on," Eragon said.

Murtagh took a deep breath and agreed with the younger boy.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Marin took a deep breath. He always treated her like she was stupid. She didn't respond. In fact, she didn't talk to him for the rest of the day. She knew she was being immature, but something kept her from apologizing or accepting his apology.

Murtagh waited a moment for a response, and then he sighed exasperatedly and turned Tornac around. That girl was impossible. He expressed one bit of concern for her, and she took it the wrong way.

The next day, they reached stayed in a town very close to Urû'baen. Something eventful happened that day.

Eragon had disguised himself and gone off to look in jails as he always did when they entered a town. Marin thought he must have been looking for somebody.

She and Murtagh walked into the side door of one of the town's many bars.

"Why're we 'ere?" she asked.

"We're waiting for Eragon, and we have to look normal," he whispered. She giggled. Murtagh stared at her.

"Ya said look normal," she whispered as she put her arms around his neck and her lips to his ear.

"I think I'd have preferred to pretend to be your brother," he remarked.

Marin let go of him. She should have known he wouldn't like that. He was definitely of higher birth than she, and she could tell her thought her guttersnipe who was more trouble than she was worth. Why did that bother her so much?  
"Fine, I'll stop teasin' ya," she yelled. "Stupid brother," she muttered.

Any person who'd looked up at this turned their heads away after giving an amused snort. Murtagh clapped his hand to his forehead. Marin grinned at him.

Murtagh gave her something that resembled a smile in return. He'd gotten used to the way Marin would smile, opening her mouth and showing all her teeth. He'd actually grown to like it.

They ordered drinks and sat at a table, waiting for Eragon. They only talked a little, mostly just asking each other why the rider was taking so long. At last Eragon, walked through the door.

"Did you get me anything to drink?" he asked. "I'm parched." Marin thought he seemed discouraged about something. She decided not to ask him what it was. He must know somebody who had been captured by the empire. That would explain he kept searching jails.

"We didn't know if you would want anything," Murtagh replied. "You can just order there," he added, pointing at the bartender and handing him a few coppers. Eragon took them and went to sit by the bar and wait for his drink.

Murtagh's eyes flicked to the left, then to where Eragon was standing, and then narrowed. Marin followed his eyes. A man was staring at the rider with suspicion. He must be an officer. That would explain why he was rather gone-to-seed. He was late middle-aged and growing fat, but Marin saw several rings of honor squeezing his large, thick fingers.

"I'll take care of it. Ge' Eragon outa 'ere. I'll meet ya in the back-alley." she whispered to Murtagh. The officer's eyes hadn't fallen on either of them. That was good.

Marin tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and looked at her.

"What do you want girl?" he snapped.

She backed away in feigned timidity. The officer's eyes softened as he looked at her.

"It's okay. Don't be afraid. Just tell me what you," he said, indicating that she could sit beside him in the booth. She took a seat.

"Oh, sir, I've been afeared. Me older brother's in the army, and 'e been killed. Me other brother's rearin' 'bout it, and me da threw 'im out, and I've been 'earin' the most awful rumors. Urgals and Varden and shades and such," she said breathlessly.

The officer leered. He put he hand on her face and said, "It's okay, girl. The Varden are under control. The Urgals are under control. And what kind of gossip told you about a shade?" He was completely ignoring Eragon, who was in the process of being warned of the danger by Murtagh.

"Bu' I 'eard bout this place called Yazuac, and they said it 'ad been ransacked," she protested, using the name of a place Eragon had mentioned while they'd traveled.

"Urgals did that, lass, but that was a while ago. We've got them under control," he comforted. His other hand was stroking her wrist at the pulse point, and the previous one had began to caress her face and her neck. She shuddered inwardly.

_Don' think bout it. Don' think bout it,_ she kept repeating. It didn't work. It used to work.

"Well, if they's all like ya, I guess it'll be fine," she giggled. Eragon had left the inn. Murtagh glanced back at her, his expression unfathomable.

_Go, fool,_ she thought. He followed Eragon through the door.

The officer took his hand off her wrist and snaked it and the rest of his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. He stunk, she realized. She couldn't pretend she was elsewhere. She couldn't pretend he didn't smell. She couldn't pretend it was okay.

"Please, sir, I've gotta go," she protested. He pulled her even closer. The hand on her face pulled it to his lips. He began to kiss her everywhere he could reach.

"Please," she whispered. He kissed harder. They were wet and slobbery and disgusting.

"Stop," she moaned. He didn't stop. Her eyes caught sight of his wedding ring. He was married!

"Ge' your married 'ands off me," she yelled as she put her own hands on his and pulled them apart.

"Bitch," he cursed as he pulled her back. She pulled out her dagger and placed it on his throat.

"You were just a tease," he muttered as he let go of her. He passed out promptly. It figured he'd been drunk. He must have actually been a good officer if he'd noticed Eragon in that state.

She walked out the front entrance of the bar. Hopefully, no one else would come to the conclusion that she'd been Eragon's escape plan.

She walked into the alleyway. Both Eragon and Murtagh were standing there.

"What were you thinking?" Murtagh demanded.

"I was getting' 'im out okay," she replied.

"Murtagh's right," Eragon said. "That man could have hurt you."

"'E was drunk, and 'e dead fainted," Marin muttered.

"You're lucky," Murtagh said. "That was a good officer. If he hadn't been, he would have called you for what you were, and he could have raped you. You wouldn't have been able to get away from you."

"I'm fine. Mayhap I was lucky, bu' ain' tha' the point?" she protested.

"Luck doesn't stay," Murtagh muttered darkly. "Let's get out of here." They left the town.

Eragon looked warily at Marin and Murtagh. He didn't want them to start fighting again. It was annoying him.

_Look on the bright side,_ Saphira said. _At least we're past Urû'baen, and we haven't been captured yet. And your ribs are healing very well._

Eragon nodded. He hoped he'd be able to stop using bandages on his wound soon.

That's the end of chapter four. Please, leave a review and give me your opinion. Here are the review responses.

Daydreamin' Angel: Thanks. I did the accent to add realism.

Dragonflame-05: I might phase it out a little. Like, Murtagh might keep correcting her grammar, and she'll be around Eragon and Murtagh, who talk correctly, and she'll get a little better. I understand what you're saying, but I didn't think she'd have the best grammar, having lived on the streets for so long. I'm glad you like this story.

JaBoyYa: You'll see with whom I go. Arya comes into the picture when they get to Gil'ead.

Mean titan: I'm glad you like it. I hope this update came soon enough. I do like cookies. Especially gingerbread and chocolate chip.

CelticPuzzleStrangerRanger: Thanks. I hope the update came soon enough.

Narnian Sprite: Thanks. I get what you were saying now.

Mlb: You'll see with whom I go.


	5. Sparring and Confusion

Sparring and Confusion

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Thank you.

"_You're lyin'," a woman accused the man who was sitting across the table from her. It looked as though they were in a back of a bar. _

"_I'm not lying, and you'll have to get rid of that accent if everything works," the man replied smoothly._

"_Even if ya ain't, why would it work? I ain't tha' special," the woman protested. _

"_You'll do anything to get what you want, you're clever, you're realistic, and your life would be no worse if they fell. In fact, if you become part of this, your life could and would be better," the man replied. _

"_Provided you ain't lyin'," the woman retorted._

"_You know what it is that my friends and I do here because you figured it out. Normally, I would have killed you, but I think you can help us, and so does he," the man explained. _

"_I'll believe ya," the woman conceded after a long pause, "but tha' be'er no' be a bad thing." _

"_It won't be," the man comforted. _

Marin woke up. Why had she had another dream? She barely ever dreamt, but since that night near Urû'baen, she'd been dreaming a lot, though she didn't know for the life of her why. At least that dream hadn't been bad. She'd dreamt about the night her father was killed in the last two days since Urû'baen when the robbery and murder was something she normally chose not to think about. That was how she dealt with everything: by pretending it hadn't or wasn't happening or by pretending it was better than it was. She was realizing she couldn't do that anymore. She hadn't been able to pretend that it was okay that the man in the bar had been trying to rut her, and she hadn't been able to pretend he wasn't fat, drunk, and smelly. It was so stupid. How could a week and a half of traveling change her so much?

She looked at Murtagh, who was keeping watch, and then over at Eragon, who was sleeping. She cursed them silently. It was their fault that she'd been pulled out of her old life. Even then, she found a way to be thankful for it. She'd known deep down inside that she wouldn't have been able to support herself in the manner she had been forever. She wouldn't stay young, she wouldn't always be able to run, and men wouldn't always want her. She knew she'd have died in Dras Leona before she was old. That was the way it had always been there. She remembered that her one friend, Jamison the Snake, had told her that. He'd also said that they might as well live with a bang and die with a bang because they weren't going to do the former for very long and it wouldn't be very long until the latter event occurred.

Jamison been somewhat of a legend as a pick pocket among the watch, and they'd hated him. Marin remembered how, three months ago, he'd decided to bet that he could pick the pockets of one of the watch, despite the fact that everyone who known him had told him it was a stupid thing to do. He'd done it and been caught before he'd exited the pleasure districts of Dras Leona (where the poor made their money and where the rich went to lose it, as street rats said). The rumors differed on what had happened to him. All said that he'd tried to escape. Some said that he vanished into thin air before they could tattoo him. Others said that he'd been caught. Still others said that his escape had been successful, and that he'd gone to plague another city. Marin now realized that she didn't want to live with a bang and die with one too. Then again, she hadn't been living with a bang than. She'd been scraping ends meet. Maybe she was living with a bang now. Maybe Jamison had been right. Maybe it was a good idea. Or maybe this whole thing would be her downfall. She shook herself. She had to stop worrying about the future. She got up, walked over to Murtagh, tapped him on the shoulder, and said, "I'll take your watch."

"Why?" he asked.

Marin froze. That voice was the same voice the man in her dream had had. But Murtagh wasn't that man. They didn't look alike. At least not enough to be the same person.

"Why?" he repeated.  
"I couldn't sleep," she replied.

Murtagh nodded slowly. He seemed inclined to ask why, but he didn't. He left his place and pulled out his bedroll to sleep.

Marin stood there looking outwards. Fear instilled in her by Murtagh that some soldiers may have been sent after them kept her awake. If it weren't for that, she'd have fallen asleep. She was beginning to regret taking Murtagh's watch. She looked over at the young man. He'd already fallen into a seemingly deep sleep. He looked almost peaceful and almost happy. Almost. There was something about him that looked as though he'd never felt fully safe, fully peaceful, or fully happy in his life. He was good-looking though, asleep as well as awake.

Marin shook herself. She couldn't afford to fall for either boy, especially not Murtagh. He was so obviously above her. Besides, he thought her an annoyance and perhaps a source of amusement. At most, he'd bed her and then leave when he'd sated himself.

Gods, that was another thing Jamison had said. "Beguiling all, and beguiled by one." But she had never really beguiled the men who bought her for the night. She aroused them, but not beguiled them. That was a deeper obsession. She wasn't beguiled by Murtagh either. Maybe she had a slight interest, but she wasn't beguiled. Perhaps Jamison hadn't been as right as he always thought himself to be.

She watched, trying not to think. Thinking wasn't worth it, she'd long since decided. Just plan, just scheme, just live in the present because the future was too bleak to worry about. But her future wasn't bleak now. Oh, why was she so confused? She'd never been confused before. Before, it had simply been do what you need to do to live. The closest she'd come to confusion was when nobody would buy her mother's dagger, and that had been for a completely different reason. This was different kind of confusion anyway. This was deeper confusion.

Oh, why was she rambling in her mind? Her thoughts never went rampant. She'd always thought on a straight path. It bothered her. She brushed her thoughts aside at last and contented herself to watch for dangers. None came, and when Eragon relieved her, she had gotten rid of her confused thoughts and decided that she was stuck with Eragon and Murtagh, so how she felt about that didn't matter. It was better than it had been, and that was the only fact. Maybe she'd be confused later, but for now, she would go with the flow because she couldn't go against it.

She went down to sleep until Eragon woke her and Murtagh up in the morning.

They rode all day, and Marin didn't fall off Cadoc for the first time. (She did slip in the saddle once and was only saved by Eragon's spell, but she chose to ignore that part.)

That night, Eragon changed his bandages and declared his wound healed. He turned to Murtagh, who was witling was piece of wood with his, and asked, "Now that I am strong enough, would you like to spar?"

"With sharpened swords?" Murtagh asked incredulously. "We could kill each other."

"Here, give me your sword," Eragon ordered, holding out his hand for the hand-and-a-half blade. Murtagh handed it to him, and Eragon ran his hands over the blade and mumbled in some strange tongue. He returned the blade to Murtagh, who took it and inspected it. He seemed perplexed because the edges looked rather blunted.

"I can undo that once we're finished," Eragon comforted.

"It will do," Murtagh decided. He stood and faced Eragon. Both were settled into a crouch. Marin waited with bated breath until Eragon swung Zar'roc and Murtagh stopped the blade. They both swung their swords around and began the most complex battle Marin had ever seen. It beat any knife or fist fight that had ever broken out in any bar that she'd ever seen. She'd never seen men move so gracefully, not even Jamison who had been called the snake because he could weave in and out of the crowds or the fights and get exactly what he wanted. He'd only been harmed on a few occasions, and two of them had given him two tattoos. He'd have gotten his third one if he hadn't escaped the jail (if he had escaped the jail.)

The fight continued for a long while with neither gaining the upper hand. Murtagh had actually started laughing because of this.

"Enough! Halt!" Eragon finally yelled. He sat down, and Murtagh followed suit. They both panted.

"You're amazing," Murtagh said. "I've studied swordplay all my life, but never hav ei fought one like you. You could be the king's weapon master if you wanted to."

"You're just as good," Eragon replied. "The man who taught you, Tornac, could make a fortune with a fencing school. People would come from all parts of Alagaësia to learn from him."

"He's dead," Murtagh said shortly.

"I'm sorry," Eragon told him. Marin echoed him, and both boys remembered her existence and turned to her.

"Tha' was impressive," she said.

"You've never seen a fight?" Eragon asked.

"Oh, I've seen fights, bu' mosta o' the people there were drunk, so they weren' hittin' oo they wanted t' be hittin'. Violen', but no' too contolled," she explained.

Murtagh laughed.

"I's true," she protested.

"It's not that. It's just the way you said it," Murtagh replied.

"No' sure 'ow t' take tha', but alrigh'," she said.

"Can you fight?" Murtagh asked.

"With fists and stuff," she replied. "No' swords though. I dunno 'ow easy it'd be. Ya make i' look so easy, bu' I knew a guy 'oo made a lo' of things tha' weren' easy look easy, so…"

"Let's see what the gamin can do," Eragon said, standing up.

"Gamin?" she asked.

"That's what Murtagh said it's what you look like," Eragon explained.

She turned to Murtagh and said, "I know I'm an urchin, bu' I don' need ya t' remind me o' i' with every breath you take."

"I said that a while ago," Murtagh replied. "Besides, I realized gamin refers to a boy, not a girl. I'm sorry for my ignorance."

Marin rolled her eyes.

"What are you doing?" Eragon asked.

"She's giving us the feminine sign of contempt by rolling her eyes," Murtagh told him.

Marin glared at him.

"And now she's using the normal sign of contempt by glaring at us," Murtagh continued.

"I was jus' glarin' and rollin' my eyes a' you," she retorted.

"Well, be grateful it wasn't lost on me," Murtagh said calmly.

Marin drew in her breath and let it out. She could never get around this man.

"That is another feminine sign of contempt that I can only recognize because Tornac had an older sister who demonstrated all forms of feminine contempt on both of us," Murtagh continued.

Marin caught him off guard as she elbowed him in the stomach. He doubled over, swearing. He grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. She gasped in pain and pinched the skin on the inside of his wrist, and he let go of her for a moment.

Marin still wanted to win, so she brought her knee up to his groin. Murtagh stepped back, and she missed. He then grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her to the ground, climbing on top of her to make sure she couldn't get up.

Marin brought her head up to his and slammed them together. Murtagh drew in his breath sharply and got off of her. She rubbed her forehead.

_Tha' was a dumb move, _she thought.

"Stop it. She's competent," Eragon shouted as Marin prepared to launch herself at Murtagh again.

"Well, you know where to hit," Murtagh remarked.

"Decided t' address me drectly, 'ave we?" she asked.

"Yes," Murtagh replied.

"Should we teach her to use a sword?" Eragon asked.

"She doesn't have one, but that dagger is pretty long," Murtagh replied.

Eragon held out his hand for her dagger, and she handed it to him. He dulled it just as he had Murtagh's sword and handed it back to her.

She looked at it. How exactly was she supposed to use this?

Eragon struck with Zar'roc as soon as she had stood and settled into a crouch that she hoped resembled Eragon and Murtagh's. He disarmed her within the span of three seconds.

"We're going to have to work on sparring," Eragon remarked. Murtagh nodded in agreement.

"Should we go t' sleep?" Marin asked. Both boys nodded to her relief. She didn't want to spend the entire night learning how to fight with her dagger anymore than she already knew how.

Okay, how did everyone like that chapter? I only got three reviews last time. You've spoiled me. I'm used to seven or eight. May I have five for this chapter? Thanks. Bye.

CelticPuzzleRangerStranger: I hope this one came soon enough. Glad you liked the chapter.

Stripysockz: I'm glad you liked that scene. I was hoping it would come out alright.

Narnian Sprite: Well, she's developing decency. Glad you liked that chapter, and I hope you liked this one.


	6. The Snake and the Cat

The Snake and the Cat

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, CP owns it. If you don't, it's probably mine. Oh, and I've chosen to pronounce Den-ner Day-near.

_The same woman from the dream she'd had almost two weeks ago was there again. This time, she was cleaning a bar table, and there was no sign of the other man. _

"_I am looking for a woman named Den-ner. I have been told she works here," a smooth, masculine voice said._

_The woman looked up. "I'd be Den-ner," she told the man. _

_He looked her over with critical eyes. "I was expecting more," he stated._

"_More in'nt always wha' ya get," she replied. _

"_No, it is not," the man agreed. _

"_Ya gotta get more if ya wan' it," the woman continued, "and don' they say less is more?"_

"_They do," the man agreed. A smile played across his mouth. "You have wits and determination, I see. He did not lie. I suppose you know the nature of the test."_

"_I wouldn't've agreed t' it if I didn'," Den-ner said. _

"_Good. You're not stupid," the man remarked._

"_Glad ya think so," Den-ner said._

"_The sarcasm is amusing now, but it could annoy me very quickly," the man said silkily. "As for the accent, I hope it goes."  
"Aw, this be jus' another way o' talkin'," Den-ner crooned. "Sides, I'll lose it if I gotta. Then again, me talkin' isn' wha' ya wan' me for, right??"_

"_No, it is not," the man agreed. "I shall test you tonight."_

"_An' if I fail?" she asked._

_The man stared at her. Marin felt unease and read it on Den-ner's face._

"_That would be regrettable. Do you really intend to fail though?" the man said with a smile._

"_An' if I don' take it atall?" she asked, nervousness creeping into her voice._

"_That would be even more regrettable," the man replied. _

_Den-ner gulped and made no response. The man put a hand on her cheek and caressed._

"_You're prettier than I first took you to be," he remarked. _

"_Le's get the test over with," Den-ner said, standing up._

"_Of course," the man said. "Follow me."_

Marin awoke before she could finish the dream. Den-ner. She'd never heard anyone called by that name before. Dina and Dana were the closest things she'd known to it. Her mother and a maid who'd worked at a bar she'd frequented had been named Dina, and one of her friends had been named Dana.

"So, you're finally awake," Murtagh remarked as she got up. "We've both been up for a half an hour. I wanted to wake you, but Eragon told me to let you sleep."

"What were you dreaming about?" Eragon asked.

"Dreamin'?" Marin asked, her voice going slightly higher.

"You kept mumbling, 'Don't do it. Don't do it,'" the rider answered.

"I did?" she asked. She must have been warning Den-ner about it. Had she failed the man's test? What was the test for that matter? She was so confused.

"What was it about?" Eragon asked, continuing to press her.

"I's diff'cult t' explain," Marin replied.

"Who didn't you want to do something?" Murtagh asked, coming into the conversation.

"This woman. I dunno 'oo she is. This man was gonna tes' 'er some'ow. 'E said it'd be regrettable if she failed," Marin said.

"That's odd," Eragon remarked.

"I know i's odd, and I can' make 'eads or tails outta it. I's drivin' me mad," she mumbled.

"It probably means nothing," Murtagh said, his voice surprisingly comforting. Marin looked up, slightly shocks. "Just put it out of your mind."

Marin shrugged and got up. "I'll try," she said. "I's 'is voice I can' forget."

"What was it like?" Murtagh asked. Something about the word regrettable had struck him.

"Like a snake whisp'rin' or sommat," Marin said. She picked up her pack and slung it over Cadoc's back. She then mounted the horse. He looked at her with a resigned air. She'd come to suspect he wished Eragon were still riding.

"You're stuck with me, so ya get used t' it," Marin whispered.

"Here I thought you hated the horse, and now you're talking to it," Murtagh remarked.

"Sh, he'll hear ya," she muttered. "I don' wan' 'im throwin' me."

Murtagh started laughing.

"I was serious!" she yelled. Eragon joined his friend in laughing.

"Boys," she mumbled rolling her eyes. Eragon climbed onto Snowfire, Murtagh climbed onto Cadoc, and they rode off.

That night, after nearly a month of traveling, they stopped their horses on the outskirts of Gil'ead. Marin saw the log houses of the city and heard dog's barking. Their was a blue smoke in the air. She knew what it was: Izine, a drug. It had been sold in the pleasure districts of Dras Leona, a place few tourists went. She'd never used the drug herself, but rich men loved it. She shook memories of the rotting city out of her head. This was Gil'ead. This was different.

Murtagh and Eragon decided that they should camp two miles from the city for safety. While they ate dinner, the former said, "I'm not sure you should be the one to go into Gil'ead," to Eragon.

"Why? I can disguise myself well enough," Eragon said, "and Dormnad will want to see the gedwëy ignasia as proof that I really am a rider."

"Perhaps," Murtagh said, "but the Empire wants you much more than me. If I'm captured, I could eventually escape. But _you_ are taken, they'll drag you to the king, where you'll be in for a slow and painful death by torture—unless you join him. Plus, Gil'ead is one of the army's major staging points. Those aren't houses out there; they're barracks. Going in there would be like handing yourself to the king on a gilded platter."

Eragon paused for a moment. Marin assumed he was asking Saphira for her opinion. She took the opportunity to say something.

"I coul' do it," Marin put in.

"What?" Murtagh asked. "Did you listen to a word I said?"

"Every one," she replied. "Lisen, I ain' wan'ed by none o' them. The king don' care. I wouldn' be captured, an' I coul' ge' in and ou'."

"And if anyone attacks you, how do you expect to defend yourself? They won't be drunk this time," Murtagh protested.

"If they attack, they prolly are drunk," Marin retorted. "Sides, i's safer if I go than if either one o' ya go."

"She has a point," Eragon conceded, "but so do you. I think we should all go in."

"Who will watch horses then?" Murtagh asked. "You and Marin can wait here, and I'll go in."

"I' makes more sense if I go in," Marin said, grabbing his sleeve. He stared down at her for a moment, meeting her eyes. She gulped and then stared back. She felt like he was boring into her soul.

Murtagh jerked his arm away and broke eye contact.

"Look, I ain' done much with y'all, I know, bu' I did take care o' meself on the streets for four years. I think I'll be fine," she said to Eragon.

"Saphira thinks you both should go," the rider said after a moment. "Murtagh, you'll draw less attention to yourself if she's with you because the Empire won't recognize her, and Marin, you'll be safer with him than you'll be alone."

"Fine," they both said at the same time.

"But if anything goes wrong, I'm coming after you," he added.

Murtagh laughed. "That would be fit for a legend: how a lone rider took on the king's army single-handedly." He chuckled again and stood. "Is there anything we should know before going?"

"Shouldn't we rest and wait until tomorrow?" Eragon asked cautiously.

"Why? The longer we stay here, the greater chance that we'll be discovered. If this Dormnad can take you to the Varden, then he needs to be found as quickly as possible. Neither of us should remain near Gil'ead longer than a few days," Murtagh said.

Marin found herself agreeing with him. Why did he always seem to know what was right? Then she thought of how he'd insisted on going instead of her when it would have made more sense otherwise. Maybe he didn't know everything, she decided, but he knew a lot.

Eragon then told both Murtagh and Marin what needed to be said to Dormnad. He had apparently gotten the information from Saphira.

"Very well," Murtagh said, adjusting his sword. "Unless there's trouble, I'll be back in a couple of hours. Make sure there's some food left for me."

"An' me," Marin added. "I don' fancy goin' 'ungry for the night."

She then mounted Cadoc, and she and Murtagh rode off to Gil'ead.

"Lis'en," she began as they neared the city after riding for about ten minutes.

"I'm listening," Murtagh said.

"I think we shoul' spli' up. I' ull all get done quicker, ya know?" she said.

"I thought we agreed that you wouldn't go into the city alone," Murtagh sighed.

"We agreed ya'd come with me," she said. "I' ull get done quicker, and we'll be ou' faster and the danger'll go away, savvy?" Marin said, ending the phrase with one that Jamison and Dana had loved to use.

"If you get hurt," he began.

"I'll le' ya blame me and tell me, 'I tol' ya so,' till your hear's content," Marin finished.

Murtagh grinned slightly. "You have your dagger?" he asked.

She nodded.

"We'll split up once we're inside," he said.

Marin agreed. She was surprised she'd been able to sway Murtagh at all.

They entered the city fairly easily. Marin was relieved they didn't check her hands. That would have been bad.

"Meet at the Inn of the Hawk and the Crow," Murtagh told her.

Marin nodded. She looked around.

"I'll go in there firs'," she said.

"Suit yourself," he told her before he disappeared down the street.

"I will," she called after him.

"Lovers quarrel?" a guard asked her.

"Siblings quarrel actually," Marin said, remembering what Murtagh had said in the bar in Urû'baen. "Well, see, i' wasn' really a quarrel so much as tha' we're both lookin' for someone called Dormnad, bu' we're no' sure where 'e is."

The guard looked at Marin.

"'E's a frien'," she explained, hoping the lie wouldn't be the end of her.

"Don' know 'im," the guard said after a moment's thought.

Marin had walked into the Inn of the Hawk and Crow before the guard could say another word.

She looked around. Whom should she ask? She moved towards the bartender when a black cat walked in front of her. She fell forward and crashed into a table. The cat hissed and glared at her with crystal blue eyes. Wait. The cat wasn't a kitten, and she hadn't seen many full-grown cats with blue eyes except for…

"Smyrna?" she asked the cat after she had finished rubbing her head. The cat looked from cleaning the dirt from the floor of herself. The cat had recognized her name. She looked at Marin, who put out a hand for her to sniff. Smyrna meowed, and Marin scratched her behind the ears.

"Lass, wacha doin' on the floor, and Smyrna, since when d'ya le' strange people pet ya?" a voice asked.

Marin looked up to see a very tall and very thin man with hair so blond it was almost white. Was she seeing whom she thought she was seeing? She had been surprised to find Smyrna here, but she had thought that maybe the cat had been taken here by a soldier.

"Jamison!" she yelled, jumping up and hugging the man who had questioned her.

"Hellfire an' Helgrind, i' be Marin. Takes a cat t' know one, eh?" he asked.

"Stop teasin'. I'm reformed," she said, pulling away from him.

"Reformed?" Jamison echoed, sounding skeptical.

"Yeah, ya 'eard me," she said.

"Well, then ya be'er no' tell anyone 'oo I am," he said. "An' since when do ya 'ug me?"

"Since ya convinced me tha' ya were dead," Marin said.

Jamison pretended to look hurt. "Lass, don' ya know me? Maybe I can ge' caugh', but I can ge' away. Now, le's talk bou' this reformation of yours and why you're in Gil'ead."

"As arrogan' as ever, I see," Marin said, unsure whether or not she should go into detail with him.

"Whachoo be meanin' tha'?" he asked, slipping his arm around her.

She lightly pulled away before saying, "Ya still think ya can do anything."

"Tha's cause I can," he smirked. "Now, le's stop avoidin' the topic, and le's talk bou' this reformation."

"I go' caugh' for a third time. Some richy lady was smar'er 'en she looked, an' she screamed till the watch go' me," Marin explained. "I go' away, and now I'm in Gil'ead. The res' ain' mine t' tell."

"I tell wha' an mine t' tell," Jamison said.

"Only if ya be wantin' t'," Marin retorted.

"So, ya don' wanna tell me?" he asked.

"I already tol' ya," she said.

Jamison raised his eyebrows. "If ya say so," he said.

"I do," she replied.

"Now, why ya in Gil'ead?" he asked.

"Jamison," she said, leaning closer.

"Whadaya wan', lass? I can tell when ya wan' sommat," Jamison said, pulling her closer than she'd intended him to.

"D'ya know where a man named Dormnad lies?" she asked.

"I know o' a man 'oo calls 'imself Dormnad, bu' I dunno if 'e lies. I dunno 'im well 'nough for tha'," Jamison said.

"I mean, d'ya know where he lives?" Marin repeated.

"Then say so," Jamison told her. "Stop tryin' t' pretend t' be fine, and jus' say wha' ya wan', savvy? I would've tol' ya where Dormnad be if ya'd asked, but now I must extract a price."

"Wha's the price?" Marin asked dully pulling away.

"Don' look so down'ear'ed," Jamison chided. "All I be wan'in' is a kiss."

Marin pecked him on the cheek.

"I mean' a real kiss," he said.

"Tha' was real kiss," Marin protested while pouting slightly.

"Ya didn' use t' object t' real kisses, and tha' wasn' one," Jamison said. "Then again, reformation doesn' si' well with ole clients and friens, eh?"

Marin leaned in, laced her fingers though his hair and kissed him on the mouth. She felt arms snake around her waist and pulled her closer. Jamison slid a cool tongue into her mouth. She met it in her mouth. He kissed the way he'd always kissed: well but cool and impersonal. He took a step forward and pressed their bodies together. He took another step forward, making take one backwards. She broke the kiss.

"Ya bligh'er," she teasted. "Ya were tryin' t' ge' me t' the wall."

"Maybe," Jamison said with a shrug. He looked to the entrance. "I' would seem as though we've acquired an audience. I's a richy."

"Tell me where Dormand is," Marin ordered, ignoring what he'd said.

"I tried t' pick 'is pocket a week ago. 'E lives in the Grotto Inn. I seen 'im leavin' i' more'n once. Decent guy. Didn't turn me over. Now, speakin' of pickin' pockets. Tha' richy looks like a dupe," Jamison said, pointing. "The easily offended ones always are."

Marin's eyes followed his finger, and she saw Murtagh standing there. She gulped. What would he think of her? Would he figure it out? Would he think she was in love with Jamison? Why did she care what he thought?

"Ya look like ya seen a ghos', and ya don' even believe in 'em," Jamison remarked, picking up Smyrna. The cat settled into his arms. Jamison was the only person she'd allow to do that.

"Don' pick 'is pocket," she advised.

"Wha'? 'Oo you be t' tell me tha'?" Jamison said. She'd wounded his pride now.

"'E'll catch ya," she said.

"'Ow'd ya be knowin' tha'?" Jamison asked, letting Smyrna settle over his shoulder and putting his hand on Marin's face.

She stepped away.

"I know 'im. I've been travelin' with 'im," she said shortly.

"If 'e be your lover, say so," Jamison said.

"'E ain'," Marin said.

"Tha' don' make no sense," Jamison retorted.

"I's a long story," Marin said, praying Murtagh wouldn't come over.

"Ya go' new mys'try," Jamison remarked, "an' ya ain' gonna tell me i'. Tha's new. Go. I won' cause ya trouble, and I won' take a risk. Consider a gift."

He pressed his lips against hers again, and she responded a bit before breaking off.

"I's a gift t' ya," Marin said. "I doubt 'e'd be so nice as Dormnad."

"Watch your back an' your fron', lass," Jamison warned. She stepped from him as he tried to kiss her again.

"Took ya three times t' ge' wise," he called after her as she ran towards the entrance of the inn.

And that is the end of chapter six. How did everyone like it? Here are the review responses. Yay! Seven reviews.

Stripysockz: I'm glad you liked the fight. The feminine signs of contempt came up in this conversation my guide class had about how guys don't get things like eye-rolling. As for the people in the bar, I got your PM. You'll find out if you're right or wrong.

Ebz: It's fine, and I forgive you. Yeah, it's gonna be Murtagh. Who's the new obsession? Please tell.

Daley: I'm glad you like it. I hope you liked this chapter. I have a bad feeling it didn't come soon enough, but I'm hoping the next one will.

Tsumesgirl1: Thanks. I'm glad you liked.

Narnian Sprite: That day will come, fortunately for Marin. I just don't think it will happen for a while.

Daydreamin' Angel: I'm glad you like it. You probably didn't miss a chapter.

Mean titan: Oh, that's fine. I'm glad you like it.


	7. Capture

Capture

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Thank you.

Murtagh watched her come towards him. She looked scared. Of course she was. She'd be stupid if she wasn't. She'd have to have known he'd figure her out eventually. It surprised him that it had taken him this long to find sufficient proof that she had been a thief.

He decided not to hold it against her. She'd proven she wasn't a traitor, and his own past was worse than hers. He decided to pretend not to know. She wouldn't be able to stand that. He also decided not to think that she could have been more than a thief.

Oh, why did he care what she'd been? Why did he care if she'd had a lover in her past life? Practicality had told him that that would not have been impossible. Practicality told him that she might not have been the best of people. But why did part of him still think she looked like an innocent little bird with her too big nose and her pointy features and large eyes?

Well, that part had been wrong. He would say nothing of it to her and see what she would tell him.

Marin looked at Murtagh. His face betrayed no emotion. He didn't care. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or upset by that. Perhaps she was both.

"'Ey," she said when she got closer.

Murtagh nodded.

"Did you find out where he lives?" he asked.

"'E lives in the Grotto Inn," Marin said. He'd seen. She knew he'd seen. Why didn't he say anything?

"Did your friend tell you that?" Murtagh asked, nodding in Jamison's direction.

Marin nodded.

"Can you be sure he's not lying?" Murtagh asked.

Marin thought for a moment. Jamison could lie, but he'd had no reason to do so. If she knew nothing else about him, she knew he never did anything without a reason.

"Yes," she said.

"You hesitated," he remarked.

"I paid 'im. 'E won' lie cause of tha', and 'e doesn' ave a reason t' lie," Marin explained.

"'Paid?'" Murtagh asked. He knew. He was just playing with her to see if she'd say it.

"I forgo' that' 'e doesn' like bein' strung on. If ya wan' sommat from 'im, jus' ask. Don' try to worm i' outta 'im, or 'e'll demand paymen'," Marin continued.

"And he's your friend, and your lover?" Murtagh asked.

"No' anymore," she said.

"Which one isn't he anymore?" Murtagh asked.

"Lover," Marin muttered. "I's complicated."

"So he was?" Murtagh asked.

"I sai', 'I's complicated,'" Marin said.

Murtagh paused. 'Well, then, we'd better get out of here," he said. "It's not safe. I know where the inn is."

They passed through the streets in silence. Murtagh had nothing to say to her, and Marin was afraid he'd say something she didn't want to hear him say if she said anything. This wasn't good. She was afraid of him again. Then again, perhaps it was good. She needed to be cautious, and this noble or whatever he was wasn't a person to drop your defenses around. Practicality told her this. Another part of her had wanted to disregard. Now, that other part was losing a battle it had been winning. The only problem was that it didn't want to lose and the cautious side of her did. It was all so confusing.

"We're here," Murtagh said.

"So we are," Marin said.

They both entered the inn.

"Does a man named Dormnad live here?" Murtagh asked the man at the desk.

"Why do you ask?" the innkeeper asked.

"We're friends," Murtagh said. "My sister and I have a need to see him." Murtagh gestured at Marin.

"Why?" the innkeeper repeated. "He's being watched. I'm to be careful whom I allow."

"There are things that need to be sorted out between my sister and him," Murtagh said cryptically.

The innkeeper took a closer look at Marin.

"But she's young enough to be his daughter," the innkeeper said.

"I'm glad you realized that. He and my sister didn't," Murtagh growled.

"You can go see him. He's on the second floor, third door to the right," the innkeeper said. "Just don't be too hard on the girl."

"Thank you," Murtagh said. "I won't be too hard on her."

"I think we've used the sibling excuse too many times," Marin mumbled as they climbed the steps.

Murtagh chuckled slightly. "It works," he said.

"I' does," she agreed, relieved that the animosity between them had been alleviated just a bit.

They reached the second floor and walked to the right. Marin knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" an emotionless voice called out. Marin detected a faint hint of nervousness in his tone.

"Two people who have information you might find interesting," Murtagh said when Marin was silent. She didn't know what to say to Dormnad.

The door opened a crack to reveal half a face. "How interesting?" Dormnad asked.

"Le' us come in," Marin said, her mind thinking up something. "I's too inter'stin' for ou' 'ere."

"That interesting?" Dormnad asked.

"Yes," Murtagh said.

"Come in," Dormnad said reluctantly. Murtagh and Marin had to slide through one at a time because Dormnad had only cracked door open a little more.

"What is this interesting information?" he asked.

"We have a rider with us. He and this girl here wish to go the Varden," Murtagh said.

"How do I know you're not lying?" Dormnad asked.

Murtagh repeated the words Saphira had given him through Eragon.

Dormnad's eyebrows went up.

"I got a message from Brom about this, but I didn't expect him to come to me," Dormnad muttered. "Well, I did, but I expected him to come in person."

"I thought it would be too dangerous for him to just walk into Gil'ead," Murtagh explained.

"That's probably right," Dormnad agreed. "But why didn't Brom come?"

"'E's dead," Marin said.

Dormnad looked surprised and then upset.

"How?" he asked.

Murtagh explained what had happened briefly.

"Will you take them to the Varden?" Murtagh asked.

"Yes, meet me at sunrise tomorrow on the smallest hill across the road from here," Dormnad said. "Brom dead?" he mumbled as Murtagh and Marin left the room. The man didn't seem to believe it.

"So, where are the 'orses?" Marin asked Murtagh as they left the inn.

He didn't answer. Marin simply followed him down the streets towards a stable. He pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and read the number on it.

"Hey, Par, get the two horses for number 33," the man yelled.

The man called Par came out leading the horses. Murtagh dropped the piece of paper and bent down to retrieve it. He kept his head down when he came up. Marin looked at him curiously. He didn't look back.

"Which horse is the lady's?" Par asked.

"The bay," Marin said.

"Here you are," Par said.

Marin took the reins and thanked him.

"And I'm assuming this fine gray beast would be yours?" Par said to Murtagh. The latter took the reins. Marin noticed that he still managed to hide his face behind Tornac's flank.

"You know, I had a friend once who had a horse like that," Par continued.

Marin suddenly understood why Murtagh was hiding his face. He knew this Par.

"Why don't you let me see your face? Are you that ugly?" Par asked.

Murtagh swung himself onto the horse. Marin mounted Cadoc as soon as he did that.

They both left the stable.  
"Hey," they heard Par yell, "I know who you are. You're Murtagh."

"Run!" Murtagh yelled to Marin. He spurred Tornac forward, and she was forced to make Cadoc gallop while hanging on for dear life.

"'Tagh, what's with you?" Par yelled.

Murtagh pushed his way through the gates. By the time Marin reached them, they were still in chaos. She managed to get through.

By the time they reached the camp, Murtagh was still riding full-speed, and Marin was forced to in order to keep up with him.

As soon as they entered the encampment, Murtagh dismounted and drew his sword. Marin calmed Cadoc and slumped against his neck.

"What's wrong?" Eragon asked.

"Did anyone follow me from Gil'ead?" Murtagh asked. A scowl darkened his handsome face.

"We didn't see anything," Eragon said.

"Good. Then let me eat before I explain. I'm starving," he said as he seized a bowl and began to shovel food into his mouth. He said through a full mouth, "Dormnad has agreed to meet us outside Gil'ead at sunrise tomorrow. If he's satisfied you really are a rider, he'll take you to the Varden."

"Where are we supposed to meet him?" Eragon asked.

"On the hill across the road from 'ere," Marin cut in. She rolled off of Cadoc and grabbed her own bowl. She ate ravenously.

"So, what happened?" Eragon asked.

Murtagh got more food and then explained what had happened with Par.

"Since I don't know your friend, I have to ask: will he tell anyone?" Eragon asked.

Murtagh gave a strained laugh. "If you had met him, that wouldn't need answering. His mouth is hinged loosely and hangs open all the time, vomiting whatever happens to be in his mind. The question isn't whether he'll tell people, but whom he will tell. If word of this reaches the wrong ears, we'll be in trouble. And then there's the problem of Marin's friend."

Marin's head snapped up.

"I didn' tell 'im your name," she said.

"Well, at least you did something right," Murtagh scowled. "Then again, I suppose he'll know yours, and that could be a problem."

"'Ow da ya know 'e knows me name?" Marin asked.

"He had his tongue down your throat. I certainly hope he knows your name," Murtagh said caustically.

"'E knows i', but i' won' mean nothing t' nobody," Marin said.

"And if he puts two and two together and realizes that I was the person with you? I know he saw," Murtagh asked.

"I tol' 'im I was with ya," Marin mumbled.

"Things get worse and worse, don't they?" Murtagh asked.

"'E won' go t' the watch," Marin protested.

"And you know this how?" Murtagh asked.

Marin bit her lip.

Murtagh repeated his question.

"'E 'ates the watch, and 'e fears 'em," she said at last.

"So now we stake our luck with a thief?" he said. "Wonderful."

Eragon looked confused.

"What is going on?" he asked them both.

"Marin has messed everything up again," Murtagh said.

This was it. "'Oo found ou' where Dormnad was? 'Oo's endured every lil lie ya've made up t' ge' pas' 'em all? And wha' did ya do? Ge' yourself seen?" she hissed.

"I did most of the talking. Keep that in mind," Murtagh said. "And I actually tried to conceal myself, unlike you."

"I didn' do nothin' wrong. I don' 'ave t' conceal meself from a friend," Marin said. "Stop blamin' me every time something goes wrong."

"I don't blame you every time something goes wrong, Marin," Murtagh said. His voice was quieter now. He put his head in his hands and took a deep breath. "I'm just concerned that you will hurt yourself someday."

"I lived five years lookin' af'er meself. I don' need ya," she said. She chose not to mention that she'd had friends. Then again, those friends had been in as bad a situation as hers.

"I didn't say you did," Murtagh said. "I am just concerned that this will all go wrong."

"This may not be a problem," Eragon remarked. "Besides, I doubt soldiers will be sent to search for you two in the dark. We can at least count on being safe until morning, and by then, if all goes well, we'll be leaving with Dormnad."

Murtagh shook his head. "No, only you and Marin will accompany him. As I said before I won't go to the Varden."

Eragon stared at him unhappily. Marin knew that he and Murtagh had become friends. So she'd be traveling with Eragon after this. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. She didn't want Murtagh to go, and she did all at the same time. She didn't need him after all. Did she?

"Le's go t' sleep," was all she said.

They all agreed. Marin fell into a deep sleep. Another dream of the woman came that night.

_She stood in the center of a room. She was staring down the large orange stone in her hands._

"_Wha' am I supposed to do?" she asked the man from the second dream._

"_Wait to see what happens. Something will. She likes you. Morzan was right. You are what she wants," the man replied._

"_Do the others know?" Den-ner asked._

"_They will," the man said._

"_Bu' I'm no' wha' they wan'," she protested._

"_You're what she wants," the man said. "She is the authority in this case, as am I." _

"_Bu' she ain' even born ye'," Den-ner said._

"_Thanks to you, she will be," the man said, "and so she is."_

_Den-ner looked down. She looked ready to drop the stone as she saw the fine cracks appearing on its surface. _

Marin awoke. She looked over at Eragon. He'd awoken and seemed to be talking with Saphira. She'd come to know what it looked like when he conversed with his dragon. He turned to her.

"Saphira says she smells something odd," he said. "She says there are horses nearby."

"Wha' does tha' mean?" Marin asked. She thought she knew what it meant. She was hoping Eragon would tell her otherwise.

He went over to Murtagh and woke him. The latter sat bolt upright and drew a dagger from his blankets. He then looked at Eragon quizzically, who told him what he had told Marin.

The older man then drew his sword. Eragon did the same thing. Marin pulled out her dagger. They all stood.

Marin heard a snarl and heard Eragon whip around. She turned too and saw a horrible beast with horns. A moment later she realized what it was: an Urgal.

It charged towards Eragon, wielding a mace. The rider yelled, "Brisingr," and the Urgals blew apart.

Saphira roared, and Marin turned to see a group of Urgals.

Murtagh leapt forward to fight with the monsters. Marin leapt at the smallest one with her dagger, twisting her hand in its hair. It roared as it tried to get her off, but she held fast as she cut its throat with her dagger.

She muffled a scream and ducked as another Urgals swung a mace at her. She slammed into it and drove her dagger through its stomach. A third grabbed her by the leg. She almost gagged in revulsion when Murtagh sliced the arm holding her leg off.

Saphira bit the beast in two.

"Fly, Saphira!" Eragon yelled.

Both humans and the dragon turned to see Eragon collapse. More Urgals had come.

"Run," Murtagh yelled, pushing her forward by the elbow. They both ran as fast as they could as Saphira flew off.

That's end of chapter 7. I got five reviews last chapter. May I have six for this one? That shouldn't be too hard. This story is on twelve alert lists.

Prettybella: Thanks. I'm glad you like Jamison. He will probably appear again.

MysticLegend11: Yeah, chapter two did get a little boring. I'm glad it's gotten better. I'm glad you don't think of Marin as a Sue. The language will be phased out. She'll slowly get better. That won't happen until the sequel, but it will happen. I'm glad you think her speech flows though. I'm glad she hasn't gotten angsty cheesy. I've been trying to avoid that.

CaramelBoost: You thought who had a thing going on? Just because that happened doesn't mean everything's over for Marin and Murtagh. I'm glad you liked it.

Stripysockz: You will find out who everyone is by the end of the story. I'm glad you like the arguments. They're fun to write. I'm also glad you like my recurring theme.

Narnian Sprite: The dream was supposed to be confusing. I'm glad you liked the rest of the chapter. Jamison is definitely sneaky.


	8. Carelessness

Carelessness

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Thank you.

Marin stopped running and clutched the stitch in her side. She couldn't keep going. She looked at Murtagh. He'd stopped beside her. He was panting just as badly as she was. He'd been running Cadoc, Tornac, and Snowfire.

_We have to get him a back,_ a female voice said in both her head and Murtagh's. She'd only heard the voice once before. It had been near Brom's tomb.

"Saphira?" she asked.

_Yes, now we need to find a way to get him back,_ the dragon said testily.

"We can't do anything now except follow the Urgals and figure out what they've done with Eragon. Then we can make plans and rescue him within the next few days," Murtagh said.

Saphira looked mildly surprised by this.

"You still don't trust me?" he asked.

_I can't be too careful, _she said.

"Aren't you going to question her?" Murtagh asked, pointing to Marin.

_I don't think she wants to go back to her former life, and I don't think she has much to run to,_ Saphira stated.

Marin frowned. Did the dragon know?

"Well, we can always trust that, I suppose," Murtagh agreed.

Marin rolled her eyes. Murtagh ignored her.

_Climb on my back both of you,_ Saphira ordered.

"Wha'?" Marin asked.

_You heard me. There's not better place to watch somebody than from the air,_ Saphira said.

"Wha' bou' the 'orses?" Marin asked.

_Leave them behind,, and ride me. They'll be fine, _Saphira told them.

"'Ow?" Marin asked.

_What?_ Saphira asked.

"I think she means how do we ride you," Murtagh put in.

_Climb into my saddle I'll do the rest,_ Saphira told them both as she sat down.

Murtagh pulled himself into the saddle first.

"This is different from riding a horse," he remarked.

Marin cursed under her breath. She had to learn another new something.

"Here," Murtagh put out his hand to her. She took it and finally managed to pull himself into the saddle.  
"Thanks," she said. "Ooh, I don' like this."

_You'll be fine,_ Saphira said matter-of-factly.

Nonetheless, she held onto Murtagh tightly. She didn't care about decency or appearances. She just didn't want to fall.

"Is that really necessary?" he asked her as she buried her head into his back.

"Aye," she said bluntly. She'd always hated heights. That was one of the reasons she'd been caught the third time. She might have gotten away if she'd grabbed hold of a ladder on the side of one of the slums, but she hadn't been psychologically able to do so.

"Suit yourself," he said. His shoulders relaxed.

"Don' ac' so resigned," she said. "I ain' sendin' ya t' your death."

Murtagh laughed slightly. Saphira took off and she grabbed hold of him more tightly.

_There they are,_ Saphira asked. She flew slightly higher.

"They're giving him to men," Murtagh remarked, leaning forward slightly. Marin let go of him, took a deep breath, and looked down.

"They're goin' t' the city," she mumbled.

_Can we stop them now?_ Saphira asked.

"I don't think so. There are too many men there for us to fight. I think we have a better chance of sneaking into the prison," Murtagh said.

"'Ow we gonna do tha'?" Marin asked.

Murtagh paused for a moment. "There's bound to be an entrance that's not so heavily guarded. If we can get in through that place, it could work."

"Assumin' i' exists," Marin said.

"It will," Murtagh assured her.

_I can't just fly into Gil'ead,_ Saphira remarked. _You'd be caught then. _There was a pause before the female dragon added, _You'd need me to get you out of the city though. Once you break him out, they're bound to come after you. _

"If we summon you as soon as we get Eragon out of jail," Murtagh began.

_It will work,_ Saphira finished.

"'Ow do we ge' pas' the guards withou' them seein' us though?" Marin asked.

"A bribe, I suppose, or a distraction," Murtagh said.

"I coul' be the distraction," Marin suggested.

Murtagh turned to look at her, almost knocking her out of the saddle. She grabbed onto his arms to steady herself. He grabbed and asked, "Are you out of you mind? Do you have any idea how dangerous that could be?"

_More'n ya do,_ Marin thought. She remembered man who had knocked her head against the alley wall to avoid paying. She remembered what had happened to her friend Seleyn. She remembered how Jamison had found her mutilated corpse in the street. She remembered how the watch hadn't arrested the murdered because he was Tábor's son. She remembered what had happened next most of all: Jamison and Dante, Dana's brother, had hunted down the young noble and gotten him to confess. It hadn't been that hard. The killer had been proud of what he'd done. Seemed to think of it as some service to the city. Jamison had been the only one of the two who had been able to recount what happened next. Dante was so infuriated by Antonius Tábor's attitude that he'd stabbed him right through the heart. Jamison had been less shaken, made Dante throw his prized knife into a cesspool, and had Coralee, Seleyn's older sister, burn their bloody clothes.

"I know," she said.

"If they figure you out…" Murtagh began.

"I die for the good o' a friend," she said, using the best and most honorable sounding excuse she could think of. She didn't want to say that she was doing it as a sort of atonement. Perhaps whoring for someone other than herself would save her. She didn't know when she'd started to be concerned about her soul, but she had. "Sides, wha' else 'ave I gotta do? I's less risky than a bribe. They coul' jus' take the money an' turn us o'er."

"True," Murtagh said. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"You're riskin' a lo' too," she remarked. "You're prolly gonna 'ave t' do mosta the fightin'."

Murtagh turned back around.

_That will work,_ Saphira said. _Marin can defend herself well enough. If she can keep him going for long enough, she'll be able to get out of any trouble._

"Let's see how this works out," Murtagh muttered.

_It has to,_ Saphira said. _We need to get him back. For now though, we must sleep._

With that, Saphira flew back to the place where the horses were. Both people climbed off her back and fell into a deep sleep. The last thing Marin heard before she sunk into the abyss was: _I suppose I'm stuck with watch duty. _

Marin was awoken in the morning by Murtagh.

"We're going to need to wear disguises in Gil'ead," he said as they ate.

She nodded.

"I'll need the proper clothes too," she mumbled. The clothes that Eragon and Murtagh had bought her to replace her too short legging and too short dress were now dirty and travel worn. They wouldn't do. Perhaps her other clothes would though? She only needed to clean herself off, let her down, and dress herself the way she had when she'd been a whore, and she doubted even Par would recognize her.

She got up after she finished her food and told Murtagh where she'd be.

She came back a half an hour later, carrying her newly washed old dress. She wondered how short it would be now. Most people wouldn't believe that she had grown a lot in the past few years because she was still so short, but she had.

Murtagh had gone somewhere.

_Where is he?_ she asked Saphira.

_He's getting you two food,_ the blue dragon explained.

"Oh," Marin said. She sat down and pulled out her dagger. It had Urgal blood on it. She pulled off her gloves and dumped some water from her canteen onto the end of a rag and proceeded to clean it. She'd never had to do that before.

That task being done, she soon became bored. She looked over at a tree. She saw a large knot near the top. She looked at her dagger. Jamison had taught her to throw a knife, and her aim had become better than she'd expected it to be. She focused on the knot and threw her dagger at it. It struck the knot square on. She stood up, pulled out the knife, and took a few steps back. She aimed for the knot and hit it again. She took another few steps back. Once again, she hit it. At twenty steps back, the dagger hit to the right of the knot. She went forward and removed it. She went back and aimed again. After another two tries, she hit it dead center. She kept doing this for a while.

"You have good aim," a male voice remarked, "though there really isn't any sense in throwing away your weapon in a battle. It will get you killed without a doubt."

She turned to see Murtagh standing there, two rabbits in his hand.

Saphira looked at him to ask when they could go into Gil'ead.

"We can't go in Gil'ead for a few hours. The gates are closed," Murtagh told her.

"I was bored," she said.

"Can you shoot a bow and arrow?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"I'll teach you. You might make more progress with that than in your swordplay. You're lucky you didn't have to get into an actual sparring match with the Urgals last night. You managed to get away with hitting them in the right places and stabbing them in the back," Murtagh said.

"Alrigh'," she said. Her stomach clenched. Lessons with Eragon and Murtagh usually knocked her self esteem down several levels even if it sometimes make her heart beat faster if they touched her.

Murtagh picked up his bow.

"We might be able to steal you one in Gil'ead," he suggested. "That is, if you show promise as an archer. The first thing you need to know how to do is hold it. You have the aim. You need to learn the technique."

Marin nodded.

"So, wha's the technique?" she asked.

Murtagh walked over to her and handed her the bow.

"Wha' do I do with i'?" she asked.

"You're right-handed, correct?" he asked.

She nodded.

He took her right hand and positioned it at the correct point on the bow, and then he did the same thing with her left hand. She felt her mouth go dry before she mentally shook herself. She didn't need to act like a hormonal little thing right now.

"Now, you raise it," he told her.

She raised it.

"Not like that," he corrected. He then proceeded to show her the correct way to hold it. This apparently required him to put his hand on her hip. She gasped a little. Maybe this was because she was used to pretending to react positively when men touched her?

"You like that?" he asked.

"Wha'?" she said. "I…"

Murtagh chuckled lightly.

"You have your position right," he said, dropping the subject. "Shoot."

She shot it and missed the knot, hitting the tree several feet below her target.

"At least it hit the tree," Murtagh remarked.

"Ya were expectin' i' t' fall in the dir', righ'?" she asked.

"Why are you convinced that I have a low opinion of you?" he asked.

"Well, ya criticize ev'rythin' I do. Ya think I can' do nuttin' righ'. Ya tease me when I can' do sommat," she said.

"Am I really that bad?" he asked.

"Aye," Marin said after a pause.

"You hesitated," he remarked.

"Tha's wha' I mean'," she said.

"I'm sorry," he said. He sounded at least somewhat sincere. "I suppose I do that because I've been brought up to be observant and to do everything perfectly. I was raised to believe that I or someone close to me would die if I made one wrong move. They were right."

Marin turned to look at Murtagh. He was wearing an expression that told her he had told her more than he thought he should have.

"I'm sorry," she said, unable to think of any better response. "Is that why Tornac died?"

"Ye--" he said before cutting himself off.

He took a step towards her, regarding her intensely. He put one hand on her chin and raised her face so that her eyes looked into his.

"Do you pity me?" he asked.

She shrugged. She'd lived her life in danger too, but it sounded as though those two dangers were vastly different. Perhaps being wealthy didn't mean being secure. She thought of Antonius Tábor, and she believed it a bit more. This was a new concept to her.

"I don't know why I said that to you," he muttered.

"Does i' ma'er?" she asked, moving slightly closer. "Mayhap i's for the same reason I gasped when ya touched me."

Murtagh moved his hands to her shoulders, running them down her arms until her came to her hands. He took them in his. The feeling of his skin against hers delighted her.

His thumb caressed the inside of her palm as he leaned his forehead against hers, looking down. He frowned slightly, his eyes focusing on the inside of her thumb.

Marin flinched and tried to pull away, but he held her fast. The snake tattoo burned as it had when she'd first been branded with it.

Murtagh dropped her hand and pulled away.

"So," he said, his voice dangerously soft, "what did you hope to gain from this, harlot?"

I'm gonna stop this chapter there. I figured they had to find out about her past somehow, and that it had to be an accident, and before anyone asks, he didn't see the mark on her thumb when he was teaching her to shoot because it was on the inside of it and he was touching the outside. I decided to teach her archery and have her be sorta good at it because I thought she needed to be good at something. How do you think Marin should react? Murtagh's reaction will be explained later on if anyone doesn't get it. Basically, he just found out for certain that Marin is used to pretending to feel something for money, and he's pretty sure he can't trust her at all. Anyway, next chapter, Eragon and Arya get rescued and the race to the Varden begins. Also, I think next chapter will be written mostly in Eragon's and Murtagh's point of views. Thanks for the six reviews. May I have that many for this chapter? Thanks. Here are the review responses.

Prettybella: Thanks. I hope you liked this one. You'll find out who Den-ner is and why she's important by the end of this one.

CaramelBoost: I'm glad you think so. Glad you got the hint(s). I don't want to change the book too much. I'm glad you think I'm not doing that.

Holly EverGreen: Thanks so much.

Galasriniel: Thanks. I will.

Narnian Sprite: Yes, Urgals are quite nasty. I hope you liked this chapter.

Dragonflame-05: Yeah, I agree with you there. I assume you meant you were afraid the Urgals would capture her or that she'd get caught in Gil'ead? I didn't want that to happen. I briefly considered and then decided that would be stupid. I hope you liked this chapter.


	9. Almost

Almost

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Thank you.

Murtagh let go of her hands and turned away from her. He cursed under his breath. He'd made such a fool of himself. He'd put himself out on a limb for a little bird who'd turned into a bloodthirsty falcon.

Harlot! He should have known it in the bar near Urû'baen. Then he'd been ready to think her noble if a little foolish. Now he knew she'd just been doing what had been her job for the gods only knew how long.

And if he hadn't guessed it then, he should have guessed it when she'd kissed that thief in Gil'ead.

That was why she'd volunteered herself again. Was this really all her body was to her? A way to get by?

He almost hated her in that moment. How dare she pretend to be in awe of him when she was just playing him?

"I was," she said quietly.  
"What?" he said.

"I was wha' ya called me," she said.

"Say the word," he told her. "It's what you are, isn't it?"  
"I's wha' I was," she muttered. She couldn't meet his eyes. Gods, that was a clever little artifice of hers.

"A leopard doesn't change his spots," Murtagh said. "Why should you have stopped?"  
"Cause I didn' need t' do i' no more," she said.

"So if we hadn't met you in that cave and made you come with us, you'd have kept doing what you were doing?" he asked.

Marin stood still. She said nothing and nothing but stand there biting her lip.

"That's what I thought," he said.

"An' wha' else was I supposed t' do?" she asked. "I ain' go' nuttin'. I don' 'ave everythin' waitin' for me t' take."  
"Is that what you think I have?" he asked. "Do you know what price I paid for it? Do you have any idea what it is be born to power?"

"Obviously no'," she said.

"Can you imagine never being safe? Can you imagine a million people wanting you dead? Can you imagine your own father hurting you?" he shouted. Oh wonderful. She now had him so angry he was yelling his past at her.

"I can imagine bein' 'ungry for three days or more. I can imagine no' 'avin' anywhere t' sleep bu' the street corner. I can imagine no' knowin' 'oo cares 'bou' ya, and 'oo's jus' in 'i for fun or profi'," she said.

"At least you had friends," he said quietly. "At least you had people who were like you and could help you. How many of those did you have?"

Marin paused as she counted. "Four," was her answer. "One o' 'em's dead cause nobody 'oo was anybody cared." She thought for a moment. Was it true? Maybe Dante and Jamison didn't matter much in the scheme of things, but they'd felled a great lord. A great lord for a little whore. No, a great lord with a little whore. Killing Antonius hadn't brought Seleyn back. That was what Dante had said when Dana asked him if it felt good to have revenge. Jamison had been quiet for perhaps the first time in his life as though he was wondering if Dante had a point. For a minute, she wondered if he'd stop hating the rich and convincing the rest of them to feel the same. The next moment, he'd left, and she'd known he still felt the same. He just didn't like murder. During Murtagh's silence, Marin wondered how one little revelation about something she'd always dismissed as necessity could make her rethink her whole life.

At last Murtagh said, "You did what you did, and I think I understand why, but I can't trust you farther than tomorrow now because I'll never know if you're real or fake."

"Tomorrow'll never come," she muttered.

Murtagh almost laughed. Almost. Instead, he opened his mouth to retort before Saphira cut him off.

_Stop fighting, both of you! Both of you have done things you're not proud of. Neither of you are perfect. Well, my rider and I fall into that category to, and at the moment, that rider is in danger. We need to get him out of that danger, and fighting amongst ourselves won't solve anything, _the blue dragon said.

"So, you're no' mad a' me?" Marin asked.

_Just be careful around my rider, and I'll stay civil,_ she said.

Marin turned to Murtagh.

"Don't try to make me love you," he said. "You'll gain nothing from it."  
"I wasn'…" she began.

"Lying will do you no good," Murtagh said.

_We'll discuss it later,_ Saphira snapped.

"Wha'll we do 'bou' Eragon?" she asked.

_I'll only tell him if necessary,_ Saphira said.

Marin walked over to her dress and picked it up. It was dry. She pulled off her clothes and pulled it on over it. When Murtagh cleared his throat, she simply said, "Ya think I coul' afford modesty?"

He simply turned away.

When she was done, so was he. They both examined each other.

"Ya look like a beggar," she said. It was true. He had ripped his clothes, made himself a fairly convincing fake beard, and smeared so much dirt on his face that he was nearly unrecognizable.

"You look like a whore," he said. It was rude but true. Her dress barely fell as far as her knees and showed short but thin legs, was too tight in some areas and too loose in the rest. She'd ripped the front open enough to show her small chest to an advantage. He couldn't decide if it was attractive or repulsive. He decided that he did like her clean and loose rather than in a bun or horsetail. Then again, why should he care? He shouldn't still care about her knowing what she'd been. She was a necessary acquaintance, something he couldn't get rid of. She wasn't anything more. That much he swore to himself. Deep down inside, he knew that he shouldn't need to work so hard to convince himself that she was worth nothing.

"Good," she said.

"We should both go in at different times," Murtagh said.

"I'll go in firs'," she said.

Murtagh nodded.

"We'll stay within sight of each other, but we won't actually talk," he said.

"Unless ya wanna pretend t' be beggin' money off me," she suggested.

Murtagh nodded. That would work. "You won't give it," he told her. "You need to make it obvious enough what you are."  
Marin nodded. He was right.

_Let's go,_ Saphira said. _Don't take the oversized deer. I'll carry you as far as the city, and then I'll fly overhead so that no one can see me. I'll only come when Eragon calls me._

"Right," Murtagh said. He'd never realized how intelligent dragons could be. Maybe it was because from the little he'd seen of the way the king treated Shruikan.

Marin mounted again behind Murtagh.  
"Don't even think about feigning a fear of heights," he warned.

She didn't bother to it. He probably wouldn't believe her now if she told him the sky was blue, let alone if she told him she wasn't trying to seduce him. This shouldn't surprise her. She should have known he'd figure it out and that he wouldn't be able to trust her after that, but she had somehow ignored common sense. Maybe she was guilty of the same thing of which she'd often accused Jamison. She had been too cocky, too careless, and too convinced of her own cleverness.

She mounted Saphira and gripped the saddle with both her hands. She closed her eyes and made sure not to touch Murtagh. He had stopped being hostile to her because he needed to rescue Eragon. She wondered what would happen when they rescued him. She doubted the rider would even give her a grudging understanding. He'd probably hate her for it, not just distrust her. He had been poor, and he had never done what she'd done, and she doubted she could convince him that she hadn't had all the opportunities for food that the country offered.

If she had looked down, she might have looked down at the Urgals' corpses and wondered about murder again, but she didn't, so she only focused on the problem at hand: not falling.

"We're here," Murtagh said as they landed. He looked at her shaking form and decided that maybe she had really been afraid of heights. If he'd been in a better mood, he might have apologized.

She gulped and tumbled down. Murtagh saw how her freckles stood out on her skin and knew she was afraid of heights. Nobody could fake paling skin. He still said nothing as he was not in a better mood than he had been five seconds ago.

She walked past him towards the city as Saphira headed away from it to take off. Murtagh watched her enter the city and counted to one hundred under his breath before staggering up to the gate on his makeshift walking stick.

Marin skulked through the streets towards the prison. She paused as she heard a familiar name.

"You mean you had Tábor's killers, and they got away?" a soldier was saying to a man Marin recognized a moment later as the member of Dras Leona's watch who had arrested her the first time.

"We had one, and he came here to alert the other one of the danger," the man admitted.

"And you want us to be responsible for letting them go?" the soldier asked.

"Well, considering they left with a suspect Varden agent you were supposed to be watching, yes," the watch said.

"You really think that'll work?" the soldier asked skeptically.

"Let's talk about resources, shall we? You're the army working with Helgrind demons know how much information, and we're the watch working on a tip off from a jaded thief who was trying to bring down his rival. We make an arrest, and the boy goes to your city straight to the protection of a Varden agent and a very distinctive-looking pickpocket. How does that sound to you?" the watcher asked.  
"It sounds like you're more expendable than us," the soldier said.

"I can make a case against you for the king. Besides, Dormnad wasn't somebody he wanted to get away, and it is completely your fault that he did," the watchman said.

Marin saw the soldier actually strike him. The watchman stayed standing and walked away smiling, much to Marin's surprise. So, Jamison and Dante had gotten away? That was interesting to say the least. What was more interesting was that they used a fleeing resource necessary to her survival as well as Eragon's, Murtagh's, and Saphira's.

She followed the soldier, hoping to the dear gods he was going to the prison. She felt a hand on her arm as she took another step. She jumped nearly fifty feet and turned with her dagger drawn.

"At least you're getting more alert," Murtagh remarked.

Marin glared at him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"I stole the prison schedule and some keys from a guard," Murtagh added. "Poor fool was sympathetic enough to give me money. The watch changes in a half an hour. That'll be when we actually break Eragon out. Now, there's a gate here that is only guarded by one man. I think you should distract that guard, and then I'll sneak through the gate and get into the prison." He paused before continuing, "It looks as though we'll have to climb through a scullery shoot to get there. That would probably explain why there's only one guard."

"Good luck?" she said.

"Do you not want me to have good luck?" Murtagh asked.

"I wasn' sure wha' t' say," she admitted.

Murtagh shrugged. "Let's get down to business then."

They both made their way to the back entrance of the prison separately.

Marin almost jumped again when she felt a hand on her arm. She recognized it as Murtagh's touch and cursed. She shouldn't recognize his touch.

"Wha'?" she asked.

"Please, spare a coin for a poor beggar," Beggar-Murtagh asked.

"I don' go' no money, swine," she snapped. "Bloody watch 'ad t' kick me outta this place, and I gotta go tomorrow. Damn morality."

"Hey, miss, is this man bothering you?" the guard at the gate asked, leaving his post.

"'E's beggin'," she said. "Do I look like I go' money? Oh, bu' ya wouldn' understand tha'. Ya prolly go' lo's o' money cause ya soldier stock, no' the bloody watch stock."

She was hoping that the relationship between the soldiers and the watch was as bad as it was in Dras Leona.  
"Has the watch been giving you trouble, lass?" the man asked, putting an arm around her shoulder.

She snuggled closer.

"Mhmm," she said. "They tol' me I gotta ge' outta this place afore dawn."

"Love, that's ridiculous," the soldier said.

"I know," she said. "I mean, 'ow else am I supposed t' make money?"

"Aw, poor dear," the man said. His arm snaked around her waist, and he nibbled her ear. "I'm done this watch in about a half an hour. What do you say?"

"I go' an appoin'men' then," she said, pulling out of his embrace.

The guard's eyes bulged.

"Well, I need money afore I leave, don' I?" she asked. "Mayhap now? I don' take tha' long."

She caught a glimpse of Murtagh's face. It wasn't pleasant to look at.

"Well, I never get any action around this gate," he said. "Nobody tries to break in here. Who wants to climb up a scullery shoot after all?"  
Marin nodded in agreement. He pulled her back to his gate. Nobody passed by. Nobody was there to see it except for Murtagh, and the guard didn't seem to think of him as a person worthy of notice.

He slammed against the wall and pressed his mouth against hers. He was slobbery, she observed before shutting it out of her mind. She pushed back, letting his tongue slide into her mouth. She tried not to think that it felt like a blind worm was tunneling through her oral cavity. She pulled him closer. She saw Murtagh slip past them both after giving her a look of total disgust. His lips moved down to her neck. He bit hard. She moaned loudly, knowing it would pleasure him. He was slipping off her dress. She reached for his knife when she unbuckled his belt. She held it by the hilt. She didn't want to kill him. She didn't want human blood on her hands yet. She hit him over the head with it. He pulled away.

"Decoy!" he shouted as he wrapped on hand around her throat and rubbed the back of his head with the other. She gasped for air. He slapped her hard on the cheek. Her head was already pressed against the wall, so she didn't slam into it, but the blow still hurt terribly. She kneed him in the groan. He released her neck and fell to the ground, gasping in pain and cursing her.

She kicked him in the stomach and pulled off his sword as he curled into a ball. She smacked him as hard as she could with the flat of the blade. His hand wrapped around her ankle as she hit over the head a third time. He released her as he slipped into unconsciousness. She tripped over his body and landed in the dirt, causing her hands to bleed. She pulled herself up and pulled out his purse. She didn't know why she'd done that. Perhaps she wanted to have some money to call her own. Perhaps she wanted revenge for her bruised cheek. It was bad enough that she had freckles.

She looked at the scullery shoot and gulped.

_No way t' go bu' down,_ she thought. She placed her hands on both rungs and pulled herself up, her feet using the side of the building to climb higher.

_Don' look down. Jus' don' look down,_ she kept telling herself. She forced herself to look at the dark space before her as she scaled the filthy wall in front of her.

"Did you kill him?"

Eragon looked at the stranger, who was now only a few paces away. He narrowed his eye, trying to see past the beard. "Murtagh! Is that you?" he exclaimed.

"yes," said Murtagh, briefly lifting the beard from his shaven face. "I don't want my face seen. Did you kill him?"

"No, he's asleep."

"Well, tha's lovely. Me guy's still alive too, bu' 'e ain' doin' much," a female voice remarked. Eragon looked up to see Marin sauntering in. He took in her appearance with more than a bit of shock. She was wearing an extremely short—barely knee-length— and low-cut dress. She also happened to be bouncing a purse that sounded very full in her hand.

"How did you two get in here, and why are you dressed like that?" he asked Murtagh and Marin.

"There's not time to explain. We have to get up to the next floor before anyone finds us. There'll be an escape route for us in a few minutes. We don't want to miss it," Murtagh shouted.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" ask Eragon, gesturing at the unconscious soldier. "There's an elf in the prison. I saw her! We have to rescue her. I need your help."

"An elf!" Murtagh hurried down the hall, growling. "This is a mistake. We should flee while we have the chance." He stopped before the cell the soldier had indicated and produced a ring of keys from under his ragged cloak. "I took it from one of the guards," he explained.

Eragon motioned for the keys. Murtagh shrugged and handed them to him. Eraogn found the right one and swung the door open. A single beam of moonlight slanted through the window, illuminating the elf's face with cool silver.

She faced him tense and coiled, ready for whatever would happen next. She held her head high, with a queen's demeanor. Her eyes, dark green, almost black, and slightly angled like a cat's, lifted to Eragon's. Chills shot through him.

Those mysterious then moved from his to the side of his face.

"Den-ner," she murmured, her voice light and filled with something that seemed to be a cross between anger and fear.

Eragon followed her gaze and saw only Marin standing in the cell, looking more than a little disturbed by the name that had left the elf's lips.

He turned back to the elf just as she collapsed soundlessly. Eragon barely caught her before she struck the floor. She was surprisingly light. The aroma of freshly crushed pin needles surrounded her.

Murtagh entered the cell. "She's beautiful."

"But hurt," Eragon added.

"An' a rather unnecessary inconvenience," Marin added. "Murtagh, Eragon," she said snapping her fingers, "we gonna miss our lovely escape."

"We can tend to her later," Murtagh said, agreeing with Marin, much to Eragon's surprise. "Are you strong enough to carry her?" Eragon shook his head. "Ten I'll do it," Murtagh said as he slung the elf across his shoulders. "Now, upstairs!" He handed Eragon a dagger then hurried back into the hall littered with the soldiers' bodies.

With heavy footsteps, Murtagh let Eragon and Marin to a stone-hewn staircase at the end of the hall. As they climbed it, Eragon asked, "How are we going to get out without being noticed?"

"We're not," Murtagh grunted.

"Oh, bloody," Marin said, echoing Eragon's not allayed fears. He listened anxiously for soldiers or anyone else who might be nearby, dreading what might happen if they met the shade. At the end of the stairs was a banquet room filled with broad wooden tables. Shields lined the wall, and the wood ceiling was trussed with curved beams. Murtagh laid the elf on the table and looked at the ceiling worriedly. "Can you talk to Saphira for me?"

"Yes," Eragon said.

"Tell her to wait another five minutes," Murtagh ordered.

Eragon saw Marin give Murtagh a skeptical look, but she refrained from comment.

There were shouts in the distance. Soldiers marched past the entrance of the banquet room. Eragon's mouth tightened with pent-up tension. "Whatever you're planning to do, I don't think we have much time."

"Just tell her, and stay out of sight," snapped Murtagh, running off.

As Eragon relayed the message, he was alarmed to hear men coming up the stairs. Fighting hunger and exhaustion, he dragged the elf off the table and hid her underneath it with Marin's help. He crouched next to the two women, tightly clenching the dagger. He saw Marin draw hers out of the corner of his eye. She looked every bit as tense as he felt.

Ten soldiers entered the room.

"Bloody," Marin whispered. Eragon clamped a hand over her mouth. He didn't need her to alert the soldiers of their presence.

The soldiers didn't seem to hear Marin's expletive, as they only searched under a few tables and chairs before exiting the banquet hall. Eragon removed his hand from Marin's mouth and leaned against the table sighing.

"We're lucky," Marin mumbled.

Eragon nodded and then clutched his stomach. The respite made him suddenly aware of his burning stomach and parched throat. A tankard and a half-eaten plate of food on the other side of the room caught his attention.

Eragon dashed from his hiding place, grabbed the food, and then scurried back to the table. There was amber beer in the tankard, which he drank in two great gulps. Relief seeped through him as the cool liquid ran down his throat, soothing the irritated tissue. He suppressed a belch before ravenously tearing into the hunk of bread.

"Ya musta been 'ungry," Marin remarked as he ate.  
"My food and water was drugged so I haven't eaten all day," he explained as he devoured the meager portions.

Marin raised her eyebrows as though impressed.

"Why are you wearing that?" he asked.

"I 'ad t' look the part t' ge' us into the builin'," she explained.

Eragon raised his eyebrows. He knew what part she'd been playing.

"What about that name the elf called you?" he asked.

"Was she lookin' a' me?" Marin asked.

Eragon nodded.

"I dunno," she shrugged.

Eragon thought she sounded a bit scared by it. He was about to comment on that when Murtagh returned carrying Zar'roc, a strange bow, and an elegant sword without a sheath. Murtagh gave Zar'roc to Eragon and said, "I found the other sword and bow in the guardroom. I've never seen weapons like them before, so I assumed they were the elf's."

"Let's find out," Eragon said, through a mouthful of bread. The sword—slim and light with a curved crossguard, the ends of which narrowed into sharp points—fit the elf's sheath perfectly. There was no way to tell which bow was hers, but it was shaped so gracefully he doubted it could be anyone else's. "What now?" he asked, cramming another bit of food into his mouth. "We can't stay here forever. Sooner or later, the soldiers will find us."

"Now," said Murtagh, "we wait. Like I said, our escape has been arranged."

"You don't understand; there's a shade here! If he finds us, we're doomed."

Marin's eyes widened. "Why didn' ya tell us?" she demanded. She'd heard enough about shades to know that they did not want to encounter one.

"That changes everything," Murtagh said. "Tell Saphira to come immediately. We were going to wait until the watch changed, but delaying even that long is dangerous now." Eragon's face adapted the look it always did when he communicated with Saphira. Marin hoped the blue dragon got there quickly. She did not want to die by a shade or anyone else for that matter.

"You messed up plans by escaping yourself," groused Murtagh, watching the room's entrance for soldiers.

Eragon smiled. "In that case, perhaps I should have waited. Your timing was perfect though. I wouldn't have been able to even crawl if I had been forced to fight all those soldiers with magic."

"Glad to be of some use," Murtagh said. He stiffened as they heard men running by.

"Ooh, tha's shade be'er no' find us," Marin muttered.

A cold chuckle filled the banquet hall. "I'm afraid it's far too late for that."

All three people spun around. A tall man with hair and eyes like fire stood at the end of the room. He was even taller and thinner than Jamison had been. It was the shade.

Marin's eyes flicked to his sword. A long thin scratch ran down its blade.

The shade unclasped the broach and let his fur cape fall to the floor. He didn't look like he would be very strong physically, but he would be quick. Very quick.

"So, my young rider, do you wish to test yourself against me?" the shade sneered. "I shouldn't have trusted the captain when he said you ate all your food. I will not make that mistake again."  
Marin snorted in spite of herself. Were all the guards in this place idiots?

"Something amuses you?" the shade. He paused and met her eyes. Something felt horribly wrong as he did this. "Well, little…Marin, is it?"

She nodded, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Not a very good girl, are we?" he asked, walking towards her. She felt herself backing away from him. Her dagger suddenly seemed like a useless toy. She could hear Eragon and Murtagh whispering.

"I dunno," she said, sounding braver than she felt. Eragon didn't need to know about her past yet. She would prefer to only have Murtagh and possibly Saphira distrusting her. "Wha' do ya think?"

"What do I think?" the shade echoed. "A thief and a…." The shade stopped speaking as he blocked Eragon's blow with ease.

"Do you really think to defeat me, Du Sundavar Freohr? What a pitiful name. I would have expected something more subtle from you, but I suppose that's all you're capable of," the shade whispered mockingly. He seemed to have forgotten about Marin and her past transgressions.

The ceiling boomed and shook, and dust rained down on them briefly. The shade ignored it, but Eragon looked up. The former used this advantage to strike.

The fight that followed seemed short to Marin and Murtagh, but Eragon seemed to feel as though it took incredibly long. Marin had thought that Eragon and Murtagh were phenomenal swordsmen, but the shade outclassed Eragon by a mile.

Eragon had retreated towards them when the shade disarmed him with a seemingly lazy flick that knocked Eragon to his knees. The rider didn't seem to have the strength or the will to stay standing.

The shade stared down at him mockingly. "A powerful piece you may be in the game that is being played, but I'm disappointed that this is your best. If the other riders were this weak, they must have controlled the Empire only through sheer numbers."

Eragon looked up and shook his head. "No, you forget something."  
"And what might that be?" the shade asked. Marin was beginning to wonder if he could say anything that didn't sound thoroughly insulting.

With a loud roar, the ceiling was torn away, exposing the night sky. Saphira had finally come.

"The dragons!" Eragon shouted over the noise. He leapt out of the shade's reach. The latter seemed unwilling to lose his advantage, as he snarled and lunged at the rider. He missed. Surprise replaced rage as Marin grabbed Murtagh's bow and shot him in the shoulder.

"So, the little alleycat takes her vengeance?" the shade laughed. "That was pitiful."

Murtagh wrenched the bow out of her hands and shot. This time, the arrow hit the shade squarely in the forehead. The laughed died from his face as it contorted in agony. A whirl of mist, and he was gone, leaving only a pile of clothes in his wake.

"You killed him!" Eragon cheered. Marin didn't know how rare shadeslayers were, but based on what she had just seen, she knew they had to be.

"I'm not so sure," Murtagh said.

"Wha'?" Marin asked. "'E done vanished. 'E's gotta be…"

Her voice was cut off by a shout of, "That's it. He failed. Go in, and get them."

Soldiers with spears and nets surrounded them. All three backed against the wall. Eragon dragged the elf with them.

Saphira interrupted the ambush by sticking her head through a large hole in the wall. She roared and then ripped out another huge chunk of the ceiling.

Only three were scared by this display. They were lucky. The rest were scattered as the center beam of the ceiling and the rest of the ceiling by consequence came crashing down. Eragon, Murtagh, and Marin pressed against the wall to avoid the barrage. Saphira roared again, and the remaining soldiers turned tail and fled. The dragon tore off the rest of the ceiling and leapt into the banquet hall.

Eragon hugged, and they seemed to exchange pleasantries. The three people pulled the elf out of hiding and lifted her into the saddle. They then climbed on after her. It was a tight fit, so Marin ended up hanging on by a thread. She was not going to like this. Saphira took off, and she closed her eyes and clutched the saddle as before. She still did not like heights.

Wow. That chapter was eighteen pages. I wanted to finish the battle at Gil'ead though. So, may I have seven reviews for this chapter? That's what I got last time. Here are the responses.

Mean titan: Yeah, the end was hard to write, but as I said, Murtagh wouldn't just let that go by, and they had to find out about her past sometime. Oh, thanks.

Prettybella: That's fine. I've been pretty confused when I'm tired. Yes, you'll find out.

MysticLegend11: Yes, it was a miracle. And I forgot to make that that tha'. Yeah, she shouldn't have been surprised, but she got too cocky, and she doesn't like to think ahead. I don't see the need to be verbose when you can just say what you wanna say well enough. Verbose can be good though. I'm glad you've gotten used to it and like it though. I realize she killed the Urgal rather easily, but she did sneak up on it. There's really not much you can do to somebody on your back. Yeah, I think a bow could be easier to use because there's less to learn, and you mainly need aim. There still is a lot to learn, I think, but you just need to master the basic technique I guess. I'm glad you like the archery. I already explained that. You'll see about Den-ner. Anyway, I'm glad you like this story.

Stripysockz: Thanks. Yeah, it was bad for her. He let her help with the rescue because he figured she was just gonna do what she was used to doing. I'm glad you liked their conversation. I've tried to do that with the romance, and I'm glad you think I have.

CaramelBoost: Yeah, that's what it is. It was insulting, but as you said, expected. I hope you liked how I did her reaction. Yeah, that tattoo can caused problems. I'm glad you like my style.

Dragonflame-05: Yeah, I was wondering how many people noticed that she didn't put them back on. Saphira just told them to stop fighting because they had to save Eragon. I hope this update came soon enough.

Narnian Sprite: I tried to explain why he was so mad. He's still mad, but he's calmed down a bit. I hope this update came soon enough.


	10. Can't Hurt Her

Can't Hurt Her

Disclaimer: I just own Marin. Everything else belongs to CP.

Saphira landed a little less than half a league from Gil'ead. Marin rolled out of her saddle and fell to the ground gratefully. Oh gods, she still hated heights.

Murtagh and Eragon dismounted after her. She finally looked up from the newly and wonderfully appealing ground to see that Eragon was examining Saphira's wings. Her eyes could barely make out small dents and gashes on the thin membranes.

Eragon called Murtagh over and said, "Hold her down. I have to remove this arrow." Murtagh gripped the wing where Eragon had indicated as Saphira took hold of a large sapling with her teeth. As soon as Eragon pulled the shaft out of her wing, she whimpered in pain and clipped Murtagh under the chin, sending him flying.

Marin stuffed her fist into her mouth to fight a laugh. It was refreshing to see the ever-so-coordinated Murtagh being thrown through the air. As the young man pulled himself up Marin had to release her laugh.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked.

"I-i-i's nuttin'. I's jus' nice t' see someone who ain' me messin' up," she managed to gasp out.

"Well, you'd know all about messing up, wouldn't you?" he asked. Eragon looked at him questioningly. Murtagh ignored him. The blue rider turned to Saphira and said something to her. He then hugged her, and she took off with the unconscious elf on her back.

Marin then looked back at Murtagh. He was staring at her face. No, he was staring at the bruise on it. His eyes flicked down to the marks on her neck, and then to the shortness of her dress.

"What do you mean?" Eragon asked, vocalizing his obvious question.

"Ask Marin," he said quietly.

"What is he talking about?" Eragon asked her.

"I dunno," she lied. "Go' 'im up the shoo', I did. Didn' do nuttin' wrong in Gil'ead."

"Accepting the fact that you got into a fight with a shade, tried and failed to shoot him, and then had to rely on me to get yourself out of trouble," Murtagh said. "Oh, and let's not forget the fact that you got beaten before you got up the shoot."

"'Ow…" she began.

"Your face is bruised as is your neck," he replied. "Be more careful." He then glanced at the awkwardly cut pockets in her dress. "What did you do with that money you got from the guard?"  
She pulled the pouch out of the pocket and returned it.

"What are you going to do with it?" he asked.

"Use i' when I need i'," she said with a shrug.

"And you're not going to pay us back for the money we've lent you?" he asked.

Marin gaped at him.

"Murtagh, she doesn't have to," Eragon said.

"I earn my keep," she muttered. "I've go' ya'll outta trouble afore."

"And we've gotten you out of a great deal more," Murtagh said.

Marin's nerves were at an end. How many times would he reference her past? How long until Eragon figured it out?  
"Mayhap," she said. "Still, ain' ya go' enough?"

He stared at her.

"I suppose so," he said. "Keep it." There was something about the way he said, "Keep it," that infuriated her. It was something a man would say to her if he liked her trick and gave her an extra coin. She felt her anger rising. She knew she should shut up before he said something, but her mouth wouldn't.

"Ain' ya go' i' all cep' security?" she asked. "If ya believe tha', even."  
Murtagh narrowed his eyes, and Marin knew that she'd gone too far.

"Do you want me to hate you?" he shouted. "Are you trying to make me angry? Does it give you pleasure?"

"Firs' ya think I wan' ya t' love me, and now ya think I wan' ya t' 'ate me?" she said. "Make up your bloody mind!"

"You make up yours," he retorted. "What do you want to be?"

"I though' ya said a leopard doesn' change i's spo's," she shot back.

"I did," he agreed, "and you just proved it."  
"Yeah?" she asked. She didn't know why she was on the verge of tears. This was ridiculous. She'd been called a hundred things worse than this. "Well ya did too."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked. Something about she said seemed to affect him very deeply, even more deeply than what he'd said to her.

She didn't answer. She couldn't tell him that she'd only said it because she couldn't think of anything better to say.

"What did you mean by that?" he repeated, grabbing her wrists and raising his voice.

He was going to hit her, and he'd be just as bad as the rest of them.

"Murtagh!" Eragon yelled.

Murtagh did nothing, only stared at her eyes. He seemed to register their fear, and then a look of disgust crossed his face as he dropped her arm and walked away, sitting down on the ground, his head in his hands.

"We need to move," Eragon said to him. He looked at Marin and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Aye," she said quietly. She was still shaken. Murtagh had been ready to hit her, and then something had stopped him. That something hadn't been Eragon; at least she didn't think it had been. What had it been then? She mounted Cadoc and rode off behind Eragon and Murtagh. A line of torches followed them. She was suddenly very relieved to have that horse.

'_Oo'd a knowed tha' i' would come t' this?_ she thought. She wasn't sure what she was referring to.

After many bleary hours of riding—during which Marin had fallen asleep twice and had had to be awakened by Eragon and Murtagh respectively—Eragon finally said the much anticipated words, "We have to make camp. I must sleep—whether they catch us or not."

"Agreed," Murtagh said. "Have Saphira land. We'll meet her."

They followed Saphira's directions and found her drinking from a stream at the base of a small cliff; the elf was still slouched over her back. Saphira greeted them with a soft bugle as Eragon dismounted.

Murtagh and Marin helped Eragon remove the elf from Saphira's saddle.

Saphira and Eragon both looked at the elf curiously.

"As far as I know, she's the first elf the king has captured. Ever since they went into hiding, he's been looking for them without success—until now. So he's either found their sanctuary, or she was captured by chance. I think it was by chance. If he had found the elf haven, he would have declared war and sent his army after the elves. Since that hasn't happened, the question is, Were Galbatorix's men able to extract the elves' location before we rescued her?"  
Marin shrugged. Murtagh didn't look at her. He hadn't since he'd stopped himself from striking her.

Eragon interrupted the silence by saying, "We won't know until she regains consciousness. Tell me what happened after I was captured. How did I end up in Gil'ead?"

"The Urgals are working for the Empire," said Murtagh shortly, pushing back his hair. "And, it seems, the shade as well. Saphira, Marin, and I saw the Urgals give you to him—though I didn't know who it was at the time—and a group of soldiers. They were the ones who took you to Gil'ead."

Marin nodded. She couldn't fathom why the empire was doing this, but then again, what did she know of politics?

"This will mean war!" Eragon exclaimed. "Once the people of the empire learn of it, they will rebel and support the Varden."

"Woul' they?" Marin asked. "They migh' no' believe the Varden coul' make their lives be'er. Some of 'em migh', bu' no' all." She thought of Jamison and Dante. Maybe some would rebel.

Murtagh rested his chin in his hand. "Even if they heard of this outrage, few would make it to the Varden. With the Urgals under his command, the king has enough warriors to close the empire's borders and remain in control, no matter how disruptive the people are. With such a rule of terror, he will be able to shape the empire however he wants. And though he is hated, people could be galvanized into joining him if they had a common enemy."

"Who would that be?" Eragon asked.

A look of worry crossed Marin's face. Would Dormnad, Dante, and Jamison be caught? Would they be caught?

"The elves and the Varden. With the right rumors they can be portrayed as the most despicable monsters in Alagaësia—fiends who are waiting to seize your land and wealth. The empire could even say that the Urgals have been misunderstood all this time and that they are really friends and allies against such terrible enemies. I only wonder what the king promised them in return for their services," Murtagh explained.

Marin frowned. Everyone she knew hated the Urgals even if they had never seen them. Mayhap that was how he'd say they been misunderstood?

'it wouldn't work," Eragon argued. "No one could be deceived that easily about Galbatorix and the Urgals. Besides, why would he want to do that? He's already in power."

"But his authority is challenged by the Varden, with whom people sympathize. There's also Surda, which has defied him since it seceded from the empire. Galbatorix is strong within the empire, but his arm is weak outside of it. As for people seeing through his deceptions, they'll believe whatever he wants them to, or like Marin said, they won't believe the Varden can make things better. It's happened before."

Marin assumed he meant the fall. She remembered one storyteller who'd told a group of people about the fall when she was ten. Her father had dragged her away as quickly as he could. That had been a good thing. Tábor's soldiers eviscerated the storyteller and the listeners. It hadn't been the first time her father had saved her life. The second time had been when he'd hidden her when the robbers broke into his small store at night. She bit her lip to keep from crying. She'd heard him being murdered, and she hadn't been able to do anything about it. He'd locked her in the closet so that she wouldn't leave. She'd been angry at him then, but now she realized he'd saved her life. She'd never appreciated him in life, and now he was gone. She gulped and walked away.

"Where are you going?" Eragon asked her.

"T' change," she said, her voice only cracking a little. Murtagh didn't make any comments, much to her relief.

As she changed, she allowed herself to cry a few tears. It had been so long since she'd allowed herself to shed tears over anything bad. Her philosophy had always been, Worry later, cry later, and think later. It had always served her well until she'd met Eragon and Murtagh. Then she'd been given time to think during their long rides. Now she realized all that she'd been doing was avoiding sadness, not leaving it behind.

When she came back, Eragon looked first to her and then to Murtagh and said, "You risked your life to rescue me; I owe you for that. I couldn't have escaped on my own."

"You're welcome," Marin said.

"I can heal that for you," he said, getting up and pointing at the bruise on her face.

"Thanks," she said. It was admittedly painful, and it stung if she touched it, something she'd managed to do a few times while changing her clothes. "I' seems like guys always know jus' where t' 'it ya so tha' i' feels like your eye's gonna explode."

Eragon stared at her and then seemed to brush it aside, laughing slightly. He put his hand on her cheek and murmured, "Waíse heill."

"Thanks," Marin said again.

Saphira growled at her. _Back off,_ she told her. Marin scooted away from the very confused-looking Eragon. Murtagh seemed determined not to watch. Marin couldn't quite tell if he was laughing or scowling.

Eragon turned to Murtagh and said, "There's nothing for me to heal, but I'm still grateful."

"I'm just glad I could help. It…" Murtagh faltered and rubbed his face. "My main worry now is how we're going to travel with so many men searching for us. Gil'ead's soldiers will be hunting tomorrow; once they find the horses' tracks, they'll know you didn't fly away with Saphira."

Eragon nodded in grim agreement. Marin grimaced. This would mean more hard riding. She hated hard riding. It usually made falling off Cadoc at least once inevitable.

"How did you manage to get into the castle?" Eragon asked them.

"Marin distracted a guard at a back entrance, and we both had to climb through a filthy scullery shoot," Murtagh answered.

"I' wasn' fun," Marin added. "I almos' fell back down the shoo', an' i' wouldn' 'ave worked withou' Saphira." She glanced at the blue dragon, hoping that she'd placated her.

"You are the only reason we escaped alive," Murtagh added, glancing at Saphira as well.

Saphira hummed contentedly, adding to Marin alone, _Just watch your step around my rider, and we'll be fine._

Marin nodded, as Eragon put a hand on Saphira's neck and glanced at the elf.

"We should make a bed for her," he said.

Murtagh got to his feet and stretched a blanket for her. Marin helped him lie the elf down on it. As she did so, the cuff on the elf's sleeve accidentally tore.

"It's fine," Eragon said as Marin began to apologize. He began to pinch the fabric back together and gasped.

Marin almost threw up when she saw the exposed skin. It was mottled with layers of cuts and bruises. Her arm looked almost as bad as Seleyn's body had when they'd found her body. She'd been raped and then beaten to death.

Eragon was visibly shaking with anger as he unlaced the back of the elf's shirt. Murtagh cursed when he'd removed it. The elf's back was covered with more cuts, bruises, and burn than Marin—or probably anyone else for that matter—could count. The only thing truly visible besides wounds was an indigo tattoo.

"Can you heal this?" Murtagh asked.

"I—I don't know," Eragon said, swallowing. "There's so much."

Marin wondered if he regretted healing her cheek.

Saphira glared at her rider, clearly berating him, Eragon said to Murtagh, "This is going to take some time. Can you get me food? Also, boil rags for bandages; I can't heal all her wounds."

"We can't make a fire without being seen," Murtagh objected. "You'll have to use unwashed cloths, and the food will be cold."

Eragon grimaced, and Marin gave him an apologetic look. The rider gently laid a hand on the elf's hand, and Saphira settled next to him. They were going to heal the elf.

Marin got up to go get food ready.

Murtagh stared after her as she walked away. He'd tried to hit her earlier. He couldn't believe he'd done that. He'd sworn to himself that he'd never hit a woman after what he'd seen his father do to his mother. He remembered how badly beaten Selena had been the night Morzan had thrown Zar'roc at him. He cringed at the thought. That had been his punishment for trying to pull Morzan off of his mother. And now he had come so close to treating Marin the way Morzan had treated his mother. The thought made him sick. Harlot, he'd called her, just as Morzan had called Selena for reasons Murtagh had never known. Maybe Marin had been that, but it couldn't banish the look in her eyes as he'd grabbed her wrist and raised his hand. They had mirrored Selena's eyes. True, his mother had had brown eyes, and Marin's were hazel, but it was the same expression. He followed her to get the food for Eragon.

She looked up as she heard him approach.

"Wha'?" she asked.

"I'm helping you. Is that allowed?" he asked.

She nodded slowly, clearly confused, as she pulled the remainders of a rabbit out of the pack.

"Do ya think i's alrigh'?" she asked.

Murtagh took it and said, "It's not spoiled. He'll need it. Magic taxes your strength."  
"Can ya use magic?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

Murtagh wondered for a moment if she was still on her quest to find out as much about him as she could. He wasn't ready to tell her. He'd yelled at her for her past. He didn't need her to become self-righteous.

"No," he answered, deciding that the question was immaterial. "I've simply known mages before."  
"Lis'en," Marin said.

"I am," Murtagh told her.

"I'm sorry bou' wha' I said," she said after a pause as though she was trying to figure out what to say. "Bou' a leopard no' bein' able to change 'is spo's. I' was low. I dunno why I said i'. Sorry if i' mean' sommat t' ya."

Murtagh looked at her for a minute. Could she have guessed? No, he decided.

"What I said to you was low. You risked a lot to get us into Gil'ead. I'm grateful for that. Your past shouldn't have changed that."

"So, ya admi' tha' you're wrong?" Marin asked before she thought.

Murtagh looked at her before answering, "About trying to strike you? Yes. About trying to take your money? Yes. About not being grateful to you? Yes. About not trusting you for your past? No."

"Then ya 'aven' forgiven me," she said, sounding slightly disappointed.

"Did you expect differently?" he asked.

Marin bit her lower lip and drew in her breath. Did he always had to be so infuriatingly right?

"No," she said. "I guess lowness ain' always wrong."

Murtagh continued to stare at he as he asked, "Do you always ruin everything? We get along, and then you say something…" He stopped himself. Marin might be incapable of watching her mouth, but he wasn't.

"Sommat like a streetrat," she finished.

"You said it," he told her.

"Is i' all me?" she asked. "Is i' really all my faul'?"

Murtagh looked down and contemplated it. "No," he decided.

"Can we try t' ge' along even with ya knowin' wha' ya do?" Marin asked.

"If we can," he agreed. He couldn't forget her past, but he'd trust her as far as he dared.

Marin tilted her head to the side as though she were considering something. At last, she tentatively reached out and hugged him.

Murtagh was surprised by it at first, but then he wrapped his arms around her upper waist, completing the gesture. He pulled away from her and said, "You'd better give him his food."

Marin nodded and took the food over to Eragon. She noticed that his ears had turned red and giggled slightly. The little innocent was noticing the elf.

"I'll go hunting," Murtagh said. "He'll need more food later on."

Marin nodded. The routine continued until dawn, with Murtagh getting food and Marin delivering it. At last, Eragon finished.

"Will she live?" Murtagh asked.

"I don't—I don't know," he said in a ravaged voice. "Elves are strong, but even they cannot endure abuse like this with impunity. If I knew more about healing, I might be able to revive her, but …" He gestured helplessly. His hand was shaking so badly that he spilled some of the wine. He took another swig to steady himself. "We'd better start riding again."

"No! You must sleep," protested Murtagh.

"'E's righ,'" Marin added. "You're ready t' fall o'er as i' is."

"I…I can sleep in the saddle, but we can't afford to stay here, not with the soldiers closing on us."

Murtagh and Marin reluctantly gave in. "In that case, I'll lead Snowfire while you rest. Don't fall asleep while he's asleep," he added to Marin. "I can't lead two horses at once."

"An' 'ere I though' ya coul' do everything," she mumbled sarcastically.

Murtagh snorted as they re-saddled the horses.

"So, you two are getting along now?" Eragon asked.

"For now," Murtagh said.

They departed the camp with Eragon eating on Snowfire before he went to sleep on the horse's neck.

So, that's the end of this chapter. How did everyone like it? Thank you for the nine reviews. Sorry it took so long to update. I'm doing something for school that is running my life now. The good news is, it's over tonight. I also have to respond to one extremely juvenile and asinine flamer who isn't even innovative enough to come up with a new flame for every person.

Flame Rising: Well, let's analyze this "clever" and "thorough" critique.

"Good God. A fucking piece of shit from my ass could write better than this."

That's a pretty powerful statement. Prove it.

"How old are you? Five? Six?"

How many five and six year olds do you know who have access to a computer or have read a 497 page book?

"What the fuck is wrong with you that you think you can write a story people want to read? The only people that like this crack-out piece of shit are other inbreds like you."

Well, first of all, this fic is an experiment to see how many people like this and how many people hate this. So far, you're the only person who hates it (if you've read it, which I somewhat doubt considering you have an auto-flame). Also, I'm very impressed that you've checked the backgrounds of every single reviewer who's ever reviewed a story you've flamed and found out that they're all "inbred freaks." I'm not expert, but I'm pretty sure incest is a taboo that is frowned upon in many societies and not widely practiced.

"Please, do the rest of humanity a favor and never, ever write anything again.  
Just to make sure, maybe you should jump off a cliff."

Well, I'd only be doing you a favor, and I'm not inclined to do that, so no. Besides, it's just fan fiction. Get over it. Oh, and suicide is never the answer. Suicide is for the maniacally depressed people who think their lives are over and think that they will do everyone else a favor if they kill themselves, but the fact is that they're leaving behind family and friends who will be forever haunted by the fact that someone they knew took their own life.

"Got it?  
Good."

Yes, I got it as my thorough analysis shows. You're only doing this for fun or to take out your anger, in which case I laud you for yelling at people you don't know instead of injuring/maiming/killing someone.

Lady-Mystique: Thanks. It's fine. I'm glad you like it.

Prettybella: Yeah, I don't know where that came from. The food thing was from the book.

Stripysockz: You'll find out. I'm glad you liked the battle scene and how I've incorporated Marin. I'm trying not to have her take over the story, and I hope I've done that. She and Murtagh are starting to work it out.

MysticLegend11: Yeah, it was. I'm glad you like how I'm keeping Marin from being a Mary-Sue. Durza knew her name because he looked into her mind. You'll find out about Den-ner later too. I see what you mean about the storytelling, but it's kinda been necessary. I didn't think of you idea. I actually kinda like it. I might try to do that. LOL. You'll find out about what happens to Marin later. She won't be a rider in this installment of the series though. (It's gonna be a trilogy, like the books.)

CaramelBoost: Thanks. Marin may get another chance. She just has to work it out. I hope you liked this chapter.

Narnian Sprite: Yay! It's fine. You didn't take too long. LOL about Murtagh. He's just mad because he was starting to trust her, and he found out something that makes her very untrustworthy. Plus, he hasn't had a lot of love, and the whore thing made him doubt what she felt for him.

Mean Titan: Thanks. I'm glad you like Marin.

FireDancer: Thanks. Sorry it took so long to update.

Dragonflame-05: I'm glad you think so. He is hard to write. I hope I kept him in character in this chapter. LOL about the laid thing. Sorry about the update.


	11. Who Trusts Her Now?

Who Trusts Her Now?

Disclaimer: I just own Marin and the other OCs.

Marin was jostled awake as Cadoc was brought to a sudden stop.

"Sorry," she mumbled to Murtagh and Eragon as she dismounted.

Neither took the time to respond. Murtagh opened the pack and began to make dinner as Eragon lifted the elf out of Saphira's saddle.

"'E likes 'er," Marin muttered to Murtagh.

"Who can blame him?" Murtagh asked. "She's beautiful."

Marin looked down. He still hadn't forgiven her completely. That much was certain. Mentioning the elf's beauty was his way of doing it. Of course that was it. He couldn't be falling for the elf as much as Eragon was. Oh, of course he was falling for the elf. Men loved to have something to look at. Coralee and Seleyn had been living proof of that. Maybe Seleyn had been snappish and Coralee brainless, but everyone loved Seleyn and paid her more than she asked, and Coralee's employer let her stay in his house free of rent.

Marin glanced at the elf. She doubted she was stupid or snappish. She was so regal. She was probably some great warrior and gods knew what else. She probably had royal blood in her, or maybe that was just what elves looked like. It wasn't as though she would know. She was ignorant of most things outside of Dras Leona's streets.

Murtagh glanced up at her.

"We never did get you that bow," he said. "See if you can use the elf's before we stop again."

"She can shoot?" Eragon asked.

"I found out that she could aim while you were in Gil'ead, so I thought her while we were waiting to get back into the city," Murtagh explained.

"Here," Eragon said, handing her the bow.

Marin took it and tried to bend it. It was stronger than even Murtagh's bow. So, the elf was strong too. Wonderful.

Eragon took it from her and showed her an easier way to accomplish the task.

"Thanks," she said, hearing Murtagh inhale and exhale behind her. Saphira gave her a warning glance but chose not to say anything.

Marin wanted to tell the dragon that Eragon was simply helping her and that he was falling for the elf and that none of this was her fault but decided against it. Eragon didn't need to hear it. It probably hadn't even occurred to him that what he had been doing could have been considered more than friendly.

Finally, Murtagh finished the dinner. All three had to fight the urge to sleep as they consumed the food. After they finished, Murtagh said, "We can't keep up this pace; we aren't gaining any ground on them. Another day or two of this, and they'll be sure to overtake us."

"An' we're supposed t' jus' le' 'em win?" Marin asked.

Eragon nodded in agreement. "If it were just the two of us and you were willing to leave Tornac behind, Saphira could fly us out of here. But with the elf and Marin too? Impossible."

"'Ey, ya both made me come. Don' go blamin' me for your problems," Marin snapped.

"Murtagh made you come with us. I was all for letting you go, but he said that we would either have to kill your or take you with us because you had seen Saphira," Eragon explained through gritted teeth. He was clearly at the end of his rope as well.

"Don't complain," the man said when Marin turned to him. "Who's to say you wouldn't have sold information about us to the empire?"

Marin opened her mouth to retort, but Eragon cut her off by saying, "You two promised to try to stop arguing. It won't do us any good. Now, we have to focus on this problem."

Murtagh looked at him carefully. "If you want to go on your own way, I won't stop you. I can't expect you and Saphira to stay and risk imprisonment. As for Marin, I could take her with me and let her leave when she wants to."

"So ya trus' me now?" she asked, puzzled by his offer. He seemed to be alternatively referencing her past and then forgiving her.

"As far as I dare," Murtagh replied.

"Don't insult me," Eragon interrupted. "The only reason I'm free is because of you two. I'm not going to abandon you to the empire. Poor thanks that would be."

Marin bowed her head and muttered thanks, and Murtagh said, "Your words hearten me, but they don't solve our problem."

"What can?" Eragon asked, gesturing at the elf. "I wish she could tell us where the elves are; perhaps we could seek sanctuary with them."

Marin snorted at the sheer absurdity of the idea that the elves would shelter a girl like her.

Murtagh said, "Considering how they've protected themselves, I doubt she'd reveal their location. Even if she did, the others of her kind might not welcome us. Why would they want to shelter us anyway? The last riders they came in contact with were Galbatorix and the Foresworn. I doubt that left them with pleasant memories, and neither Marin nor I has the dubious honor of being a rider like you. I don't think they'd be too keen on her, and they wouldn't me at all."

"What do you know about her that you're not telling me?" Eragon asked.

"Nothing I'll tell," Murtagh said. "That's up to Marin."

Eragon looked at her expectantly, and she simply said, "I's no' importan'. Wha's done is done."

"But you told him," Eragon protested.

"I didn' tell 'im," Marin said bitterly. "He figured i' ou'."

Eragon watched her closely. Marin stared right back at him. He disconcerted her more than she did him. His eyes landed on her gloved hands.

"Show me you hands," he ordered.

Marin raised them.

"Without gloves," he said.

"Why?" she asked.

"Murtagh figured it out, and I suppose that's what I'll have to do," Eragon said.

Marin angrily pulled off her gloves and shoved her hands in his face, asking, "There. Happy?"  
Eragon pulled them down so that he could look at them better. He eyes took in the orange snake and the yellow x tattooed on the inside of her thumbs, but he didn't seem to register their meaning. He confirmed Marin's suspicions a moment later by asking.

"Thief," she said, putting up her right hand. "Whore," she added more quietly, putting up her left hand.

Eragon stared at her. Marin? A whore? It made sense, he supposed, but that didn't make it better. He remembered everything Elain, Gertrude, and all the other women in Carvahall had said against people like Marin. It was awful. This wasn't right. How could Murtagh have kept this secret? How could Saphira have kept this secret? And to think he had defended her against Murtagh. It was more than he could take.  
_I trusted her to not betray us, and I think she regrets what she did, at least a little,_ the blue dragon said.

_If she regretted it, she wouldn't have done it!_ Eragon yelled. To Marin he said, "We have no desire to travel with you any longer."  
"No desire t' travel wimme?" Marin asked. "You're mad. Wha' am I gonna do? I'm wan'ed for a crime people acshally die for, and i's your faul'. I risked lo's t' ge' ya outta prison. Ya've go' no righ' t' make me leave."

"You had no right to sell yourself and then lie to us," Eragon said stiffly.

"My body's mine, ain' i'?" Marin asked.

"Then value it," Murtagh said speaking for the first time.

Marin bit her lip, not daring to look at Murtagh. She didn't want to see his face. Eragon's was bad enough, what with those confused and enraged brown eyes. They were both wrong. She did value her body. Of course she did. Didn't she? She almost laughed when she thought of the answer. She did. It was worth three crowns for a night.

"Mayhap wha' I did was wrong," she admitted to Eragon.

Eragon looked at her with disbelief.

"Alrigh, i' was, but I was 'ungry. I was only eatin' every three days if I was lucky. I 'ad t' do stuff. If I coul' steal, I stole, and if I coul' whore, I whored. I' was wrong. I know i' was, but I couldn' think o' nuttin' else t' do. I's no' like I coul' 'un' stuff or plan' stuff or like I 'ad neighbors 'oo 'ad much else or would' give anything," Marin said.

"You—you're just justifying it," Eragon said. He hated the way she'd spoken of his own poverty as though it was less than hers.

_Eragon, she was as poor as you were, probably even poorer, but she was in a place where she couldn't do anything honorable about it,_ Saphira said.

_Are you actually defending her?_ Eragon asked weakly.

_She's done considerable wrong, but she hasn't done us wrong. She's helped us,_ Saphira explained.

_She lied to us,_ Eragon said, hating the fact.

_Well, considering your reaction, that's not so surprising,_ Saphira remarked with a hint of humor.

"Eragon, we can't just leave her here. She will be angry enough to get vengeance on us then," Murtagh said.

"We'll let you stay," Eragon said quietly.

Marin nodded. She wasn't forgiven by him. That much was certain. At least Murtagh wasn't as angry as before, and Saphira didn't seem to hate her. Eragon had scared her though. Even when Murtagh had been at his angriest, he hadn't threatened to leave her alone at the soldier's mercy. She hadn't even been at the soldier's mercy then, but now she would be if she were left alone. She decided to break the silence that had settled by saying, "Well, why don' we decide where we're goin'?" in a quiet voice.

Murtagh laced his fingers together and pressed his thumbs against his temples. "I think the only thing we can do is leave the empire. The few safe places within it are far from here. They would be difficult to reach without being caught or followed…There's nothing for us to the north except the forest Du Weldenvarden—which we might be able to hide in, but I don't relish going back past Gil'ead. Only the empire and sea lie westward. To the south is Surda, where you might be able to find someone to direct you to the Varden. As for going east…" He shrugged. "To the east, the Hadarac desert stands between us and whatever lands exist in that direction. The Varden are somewhere across it, but without direction, it might take us years to find them."

Eragon remarked that it would be too dangerous to go to Surda, and Murtagh asked him if he actually wanted to go across the desert. Marin felt lost the entire, seeing as she had never looked at a map of the empire in her life.

"I don't see any other options. Besides, that way we can leave the empire before the Ra'zac get here. With their flying, they'll probably arrive in Gil'ead in a couple of days, so we don't have much time."

"Wai'." Marin cut in. "Wha' are the Ra'zac?"

Eragon explained them to her.

"An' those things are chasin' us?" she asked.

Both boys nodded, and Marin winced.

Eragon rubbed Saphira's sides. "That's assuming they can follow our trail. To catch us though they'll have to leave the soldiers behind, which is to our advantage. If it comes to a fight, I think the four of us can defeat them…as long as we aren't ambushed the way Brom and I were."

"If we reach the other side of the Hadarac safely," said Murtagh slowly, "where will we go? Those lands are well outside of the empire. There will be few cities, if any. And then there is the desert itself. What do you know it?"

"I'm guessin' it'd be like mos', all 'ot an' dry an' full o' sand," Marin suggested.

"That about sums it up," Murtagh replied. "It's filled with poisonous and inedible plants, venomous snakes, scorpions, and a blistering sun. You saw the great plain on our way to Gil'ead?"  
Eragon and Marin both answered yes.

"Then you are familiar with its immense range. It fills the heart of the empire. Now imagine something two or three times its size, and you'll understand the vastness of the Hadarac Desert. That is what you're proposing to cross," Murtagh told Eragon.

Marin's mouth dropped open. "We can' do tha'," she mumbled. "Tha's madness."

Eragon dropped his expression of awe and turned to Marin to say, "Will you stop putting me down, you being what you are?"

"I wasn' puttin' ya down," she muttered. "I was jus' sayin' tha' we don' go' a good chance o' gettin' across."

Eragon pulled out the map and looked at it. He remarked at the fact that its vastness must be the reason that the empire stopped there. Murtagh explained that it was once under the control of the riders before Galbatorix overthrew them.

"But that wasn't the point I was trying to make," he added. "This Hadarac Desert is so huge and so many dangers, the chances are slim that we can cross it. It is a desperate path to take."

"We are desperate," Eragon said. He studied the map again. "If we rode through the belly of the desert, it would take well over a month, perhaps two, to cross, but if we angel southeast, toward the Beor Mountains, we could cut through much faster. Then we can either follow the Beor Mountains farther east into the wilderness or go west to Surda. If this map is accurate, the distance between here and the Beors is roughly equal to what we covered on our way to Gil'ead."

"But that took us nearly a month!" Murtagh protested.

Eragon shook his head impatiently. "Our ride to Gil'ead was slow on account of my injuries and her lack of riding experience. If we press ourselves, it'll take only a fraction of that time to reach the Beor Mountains."

Murtagh conceded to his point, but then asked how they were to get water.

Eragon sat still for a while before announcing that he had an idea and striding out of the camp.

"So, he knows," Murtagh remarked. Marin nodded glumly.

"Thank ya for no' lettin' 'im leave me," she said after a pause.

"It wouldn't have been fair to you," Murtagh said slowly as though he was trying to gather his words. "He was angry, but you haven't done us any harm, so we have to trust you."

"Ya make i' sound like I'm a burden," she said quietly.

"You earn your keep as you said," Murtagh stated, standing.

"Wha' is i' with ya an' bein' nice t' me?" she asked. "Is i' tha' ya 'ate me for wha' I was as much as 'e does and jus' don' wan' me on your conscience?"

Murtagh pulled her roughly to her feet. "If leaving you alone wouldn't have troubled his conscience, why do you think it would have trouble mine? If I wanted to leave you, I would have. Now stop trying to find motive behind my every action, and take it as course. You're still with us. That's all you need to know."

Marin just stared at him. "I though' we said we'd try t' ge' along."

Murtagh looked down at her. "We did. Didn't we?"  
"Aye," Marin said.

He took a deep breath and said, "Let's keep trying." He moved away before she could do anything. She watched him go, wondering why she kept asking him why he did things and why she kept hoping it would be for reasons deeper than friendship. He was wrong for her. Of course he was. They both came from different worlds, and they fought constantly. But when they didn't fight…no, those thoughts wouldn't do.

Eragon successfully drove thoughts of Murtagh from her head by walking into the clearing and announcing that the Hadarac Desert was open to them.

Well, that's the end of chapter 11. Yeah, Eragon knows. Did you all think his reaction was realistic? I hope so. Anyway, review and tell me what you think. I got twelve reviews last chapter. Yay! Anyway, may I have at least seven for this one? Thanks.

CaramelBoost: Thanks for the defense against Flame Rising. I think she just flames everybody. She definitely uses the same flame every time. Anyway, I'm glad you liked the hug. The animosity isn't completely over. They'll still fight at least. Besides, she's started an animosity thing with Eragon. I hope you liked this chapter by the way.

Dragonflame-05: Thanks.

Missamy831: Thanks. I'll take care of the accent in the sequel.

Princess Resurrection Fighter: Thanks.

Lady-Mystique: I think that Flame Rising just likes to flame people. She flames everybody with the same flame, so yeah. Anyway, I'm glad you like the plot. Yes, the language is rather hard to write. Sometimes I start writing her speech normally, and sometimes I start writing Eragon and Murtagh's speech like hers, and then I realize what I'm doing and change it.

MysticLegend11: Thanks. I decided that this romance should be subtle, at least at first. Yeah, I just go the impression that Selena was abused. I see what you're saying about Saphira. I made her reaction in this chapter slightly different. LOL about your friend.

Stripysockz: Yeah, I had the same problem. I'm glad you like the arguments, and I hope you still like them. I didn't expect to have Eragon find out this chapter, but I decided as I was writing it that he would get tired of being left out and demand to know. I liked the blackmail idea, but I didn't know how Marin could find out. I mean, it's not like Murtagh has a tattoo that says, "I'm Morzan's son," or something Well, I had one idea that was a little better than that, but it was too farfetched. Anyway, I hope that you liked this chapter.

Prettybella: Thanks.

Mean Titan: Aw. Thanks. It's fine. I'm glad you like it, and I'm glad I don't go OOC.

Narnian Sprite: Yeah, they do. Thanks so much. Yeah, I decided that Saphira wouldn't hate Marin.

PrincessBob: Aw. Thanks.

Fire Dancer: Thanks.


	12. Conversations and Crossing

Conversation and Crossing

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Thank you.

Eragon's body was tired, and it wanted to go to sleep, but his mind didn't seem to want to allow it. What Marin had told him and how he had reacted to it was keeping him up. He wasn't sure who was right and who was wrong. At the time he had been convinced that he was right, but now he wasn't sure if he had too harsh on her. But they couldn't both be a little right, and he was right in what she had done was wrong. But he knew that he shouldn't have threatened to leave her to the Urgals. He looked over at Marin who sleeping a few feet from him. He'd always heard that people looked innocent or childlike when they slept. So far he'd seen Saphira, Roran, Murtagh, and Marin sleep, and none of them particularly fit the mold.

Saphira came closest to it. She looked content when she slept, though a grown dragon could never look particularly childlike or innocent. Roran had always slept with his mouth wide open, and he snored, so Eragon had privately thought that he looked rather stupid when he slept. Murtagh always looked alert and ready to wake up at any second, and Marin just looked tired when she slept, as though she could never get enough sleep or anything else. He wondered if that was the real reason that she'd become a whore: so that she could have enough.

_Eragon,_ Saphira sighed. She'd been keeping watch.

_I'm sorry,_ Eragon said. _Do you want me to take your watch? I can't sleep anyway._

_I could use some rest,_ she confessed, settling down. _Wake us all up in an hour. _

Eragon sat with is back to the fire, watching for soldiers, Urgals, and—though he dared not think it—the shade. His mind still struggled with the Marin dilemma. If he was in the wrong, he should apologize, and if he was in the right, she'd still be angry at him for what he had said. Deciding that it would be wrong to awaken Saphira, who was getting the first sleep that she'd had in days, he turned to Murtagh and shook him on the shoulder.

The young man drew his dagger and looked at Eragon. "Are they here?" he asked breathlessly.

"Um, no," Eragon admitted.

Murtagh stared at him blearily. "Then why am I awake?"

"Well…" Eragon said. His plan seemed rather stupid now.

"Gods, I expect this kind of thing from Marin," Murtagh muttered.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Eragon said.

Murtagh looked at him quizzically. "What about Marin?"

"Do you think that I overreacted?" Eragon asked.

"You threatened to leave her at the soldiers' and gods-know-what-else when she hadn't really done anything to us personally. You tell me," Murtagh said. "Even I didn't do that when I found out."

"What did you do?" Eragon asked curiously.

"Less than what you did," Murtagh replied.

"But what she did was wrong, right?" Eragon asked.

"I suppose so," Murtagh said. "She had a reason, but does it really matter now, at least for our purposes? She'll just be traveling with us, not corrupting us."

"How do you know that she won't?" Eragon asked.

"Look," Murtagh said, sounding frustrated. "If you want to have sex with her and she comes on to you, you don't have a problem. If you don't and she comes on to you, just push her away. It's not that complicated."

"Is it that simple for you?" Eragon asked him.

"What?" Murtagh asked.  
"You can't seem to make up your mind about her," Eragon said. "One minute you flirt with her, the next you fight with her."

"She's confusing," Murtagh said. "I can't tell if she's real or fake, and so I don't know what to do with her. If I knew that she was fake, I'd know what to do, and if I knew that she was real, I'd know what to do, but I don't."

"What would you do if you knew?" Eragon asked.

"Why are you asking me what I would do?" Murtagh demanded. "This is about you, remember? Do you want her, or don't you?"

Eragon gaped at him.

"I-I-she's-she's not clean," Eragon managed to say.

Murtagh snorted.

"This isn't funny," Eragon said.

"Do you seriously care if she's clean?" Murtagh asked.

"It…" Eragon said.

"I wasn't talking about marriage, Eragon," Murtagh said.

"I know that," the rider said quietly.

"Well, then, if you want her, do you really care if she's a virgin or not?" Murtagh said. "Do you notice the way she sways her hips when she walks, and if you do, does it appeal to you or doesn't it? Do you like her petite, or would you rather her be voluptuous? Do you find her attractive or not?"

"She sways her hips when she walks?" Eragon asked curiously. He thought back and realized that Murtagh was exactly right. "I suppose it's appealing, but that's not the point. The point is that she is selling something that's supposed to be for love."

Murtagh snorted a second time.

"Why are laughing?" Eragon asked him.

"It's capitalism, Eragon," Murtagh said. "She knows that she has something that she can sell and keep selling, so she does so. It's wrong. Obviously it's wrong, but the world doesn't work that way. There are always people who'll buy from somebody like that. It's the dark side of the world."

"The dark side of the world is wrong," Eragon insisted.

"That's why it's the dark side," Murtagh said.

"Why are you defending her?" Eragon asked.

"I'm not defending her," Murtagh stated. "You asked me if I thought that you had overreacted, and I said, 'Yes.' You needed more of an explanation, so I gave you more of an explanation. Now, I think that we should get going. I guess that I'll just wake Marin, and…" Murtagh stopped as he turned and saw Marin sitting up on her bedroll, her head cocked to the side and an expression of amusement on her face.

"Well, don' stop on my accoun'," she said.

"Get up. We're leaving now," Murtagh said brusquely.

"I'm already up," Marin said, sitting up. "I'll tell ya, tha' was an interestin' conversation."

"You know that you shouldn't eavesdrop, correct?" Murtagh asked her, putting a hand on her chin so that she looked directly into his eyes.

"Dark side o' 'umanity, I guess," she said, pulling away and picking up her pack.

"Lookin' t' see if 'e's righ' bou' the 'ips thing?" she asked Eragon.

"What? I…"

"Ya were starin'," Marin said simply.

"Look," Eragon said. "I don't want you. Get that through your head."  
"I know. Ya wan' 'er," she said, gesturing at the elf.

"Stop that," Eragon said. Murtagh seemed to be fighting a laugh. "You stop it too. You're the one who noticed."

"'E 'as a poin' there," Marin said.

Murtagh put a hand on her shoulder and gave a forced laugh. "Marin, when you make something so obvious, it's hard not to notice."

"I'm jus' teasin'," she said with a slight glare at him. She wasn't that obvious. Was she? Jamison and even Dante had commented on it before.

"Now, why ain' 'e saddled?" she asked, pointing at Cadoc.

"I took off his saddle to give his back some rest," Eragon said.

"'Ow day a pu' i' back on?" Marin asked.

"Didn't we teach you how to do that?" Murtagh asked.

Marin shook her head.

"This is unbelievable," he muttered.

"Firs' ya defend me t' 'im, and now you're yellin' a' me," Marin asked.

"Your eavesdropping proved annoying," Murtagh said by way of explanation.

"I wasn' droppin' no eaves," Marin said. "Ya were talkin' loud 'nough t' wake me up, so I figured I migh' as well lis'en."

"You lead us to believe that you were asleep," Eragon put in. He wasn't entirely thrilled that Marin had been listening to his and Murtagh's conversation.

"I was sittin' up," Marin argued. "If either of yous 'ad looked back, ya'd o' seen tha' I was awake."

_Stop arguing,_ Saphira shouted. _We need to get going now. _

Murtagh grabbed the saddle from Marin and threw it on Cadoc's back.

"How are we going to transport the elf?" Eragon asked.

"Wha's wrong with her current transpor'?" Marin asked.

Eragon explained that the elf would get sores if she continued riding on Saphira's back. He also explained that a sledge wouldn't work because it would get battered to pieces and slow the horses. Murtagh suggested putting her on Snowfire while Eragon rode Saphira, but Eragon dismissed it because they'd still have the same problem with sores. Eventually, Saphira came up with the solution of tying the elf to her belly. They decided that it was a good idea and did as the dragon had suggested.

"Saphira wishes to know if we should go now," Eragon said.

"I always did like races," Murtagh said, a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

"And now we're on one for our lives," Eragon added.

Marin remembered the time that she and Jamison had run through three buildings, two slum houses, and the cathedral to get away from the watch. She had a feeling that this race would trump that one by far.

"Aye, tha' we are," she mumbled.

The day that followed was one of the hardest days that they had ever spent. Marin almost fell off Cadoc several times because of the near reckless pace that they were sustaining. After her second near-fall, Eragon and Murtagh decided to let the horses rest by running alongside them. That was when Marin realized the difference between a sprint and long-distance running and decided that she preferred sprints. They only stopped twice, and that was to let the horses drink. As Cadoc lapped up the water voraciously, Marin felt sorry for the horse for the first time this entire journey. She realized how hard it must be for a horse to run so fast with a person and a back on his back.

To make matters worse, as they gained more of a lead on the soldiers, they began to run into trouble with other soldiers as they passed new villages and towns. After Saphira warned them of an ambush twice, they decided to stay off of the trail.

After they passed a town called Bullridge, they halted to observe their surroundings. Marin saw a river to their left and one five miles to their right. She realized a second later that this was the same river, the Ramr River in fact. She'd heard a little of its immense size.

"'Ow far did we ge'?" she asked.

"Sixteen leagues," Eragon mumbled, leaning sleepily into Snowfire's neck. "Let's find a gully or hollow where we can sleep." They stopped at a small juniper tree and laid out their bedrolls. Saphira waited until they untied the elf from her stomach, and Murtagh took the first watch and told Eragon to relieve him midmorning.

Marin heard Murtagh settle himself down near her and heard Eragon rise. She opened her eyes and watched him. She had to clear up this thing with him as best as she could. Her slapdash justification and her teasing hadn't helped matters at all, and she had to do something about it if she was going to keep traveling with him.

"'Ey," she said quietly, sitting down beside him. Eragon glanced at her and grunted. She bit her lip, and before she could open her mouth, Eragon said, "Don't you want to sleep?"

"I wan'ed t' apologize for teasin' ya this mornin'," she said.   
"That's all?" Eragon asked.

"Well, I didn' do much else t' ya. I mean, I lied t' ya cause I though' i' was be'er if ya didn' know the truth," Marin said. "'Sides, my thievin' and 'orin' didn' 'ur' ya none."

"You did try to rob us," Eragon pointed out.

"Well, I was 'ungry," she said. After a pause, she added, "Lis'en, ain' ya ne'er stolen nuttin' on this journey?"

"I did steal some leather and food at the beginning of it," Eragon admitted. "What about the other part?"

"Well, I suppose tha' I did 'ur' some people. I mean, I guess I played a' sommat tha' shoulda been more, bu' they shoulda known be'er," Marin said, hugging her knees to her chest.

"What if one of your…men…was married?" Eragon asked.

"I didn' ask," Marin said. "I coul' tell tha' some o' 'em were though. I dunno 'ow. I mean, some o' 'em 'ad rings on 'em, but some o' 'em didn't, and I coul' still sorta tell tha' they were married. Mayhap i' was the way they acted. I dunno." She paused and said, "Lis'en, I know i' was wrong, bu' I didn' know wha' else t' do. I didn' think much on i' when I was doin' i' cause I jus' couldn'. I 'ad t' pretend i' was okay cause i' wouldn'a fel' righ'. 'Ellgrin' an' 'ellfire, I ain' explainin' meself well, am I?"

"I overreacted," Eragon said at last. "Saphira and Murtagh are right. I just have to accept what you did and let it go because I'm traveling with you and you haven't done anything to us. I suppose that I've done things that I'm not proud of too." His thoughts turned to Carvahall, and he wondered if he should have told them about Saphira. He wondered if he would have been able to stop Garrow's death if he had done so. "I've done things that I'm not proud of," Eragon repeated.

_Eragon, you did what you thought was best in hiding me,_ Saphira chided. _You can't undo what's been done. You can only move forward. We will get our revenge on the Ra'zac someday. Don't doubt that._

"I'm sorry that I threatened to leave you. You've helped us, and I could have killed you. That wasn't right. I'm a rider, and riders are supposed to protect people. I'm sorry that I almost failed you in that," Eragon said.

"I'm sorry tha' I've been so ungra'ful t' ya two. I'da been doin' wha' I was doin' in Dras Leona in Belatona if ya 'adn' caugh' me. Ya've given me food, and ya've taugh' me things," Marin said. She paused before saying, "Da ya wan' me t' take your watch?"

"Could you?" Eragon asked. "I'm tired."

Marin nodded, and Eragon went back to sleep. Saphira relieved her later on and then awoke them all around nightfall when they prepared to leave again.

"What's wrong?" Murtagh asked Eragon, who had been looking at the elf worriedly.

"The elf," Eragon said. "Saphira is troubled that she hasn't woken or eaten; it disturbs me too. I healed her wounds, at least on the surface, but it doesn't seem to have done her any good."

"Maybe the shade tampered with her mind," Murtagh suggested.

"Can 'e do tha'?" Marin asked.

"Magic-users can do strange things to the mind," Eragon said.  
"Can they read minds?" Marin asked.

"Yes," Eragon said.  
"Tha's 'ow 'e knew me name and pas'," Marin muttered. The more she learned of magic, the more terrifying it seemed. She was suddenly very glad that she'd made up with Eragon. She didn't want to have a magic-user angry at her.

"If the shade's tampered with her mind, then we need to help her," Eragon stated.

Murtagh knelt by the elf and examined her features, and then shook his head and stood. "As far as I can tell, she's only sleeping. It seems as if I could wake her with a word or touch, yet she slumbers on. Her coma might be something elves self-induce to escape the pain of injury, but if so, why doesn't she end it? There's no danger to her now."

"But does she know that?" Eragon asked quietly.  
Marin stepped forward to examine her. Her expression reminded Marin of how she'd felt her first time in the pits where they kept the criminals in Dras Leona: scared and wary.

"I don' think tha' she does," she said.

Murtagh put a hand on each of their shoulders. "This must wait," he said. "We have to leave now or risk losing our hard-won lead. You can tend to her when we stop later."

"One thing first," Eragon said, squeezing a cloth of water so that the droplets fell between the elf's lips. It reminded Marin a bit of the way Dante had been with Dana, Seleyn, and even her at times. He'd always been tender with any woman or girl who'd been hurt. That had been her first impression of him when he'd rescued her from a man who'd ended up beating her to get away without paying her. That's how she'd ended up meeting the rest of her lot. Dante had taken her to them as her head had been feeling a bit woozy and she'd been having trouble walking straight. She was still grateful to him for that.

They headed for the hills, carefully avoiding the sentries. Saphira stayed with them on the ground for the same reason. She was surprisingly stealthy for a beast so large.

As the sky brightened, the largest river that Marin had ever seen loomed before them. Leona Lake had been huge but nothing like this. Where the lake had been like an exceptionally large pond the river was constantly churning, constantly moving, nearly as wide as the lake, and probably far longer.

"The Ramr!" Eragon shouted.

"Yes," Murtagh said, nodding. "We have to find a place to ford safely."

Eragon conversed with Saphira silently and then followed Saphira down the embankment. Murtagh tossed a stick into the frothing waters, and it raced away in the blink of an eye.

"How deep do you think it is?" Eragon asked.

"Deep," Marin mumbled. Indeed, she couldn't even see the bottom.

"I can't tell," Murtagh said, sounding concerned. He then asked Eragon if he could see how far across it was with magic.

"I don' think so, "Eragon said. "Not without lighting up this place like a beacon."

"A half-mile," the rider shouted a few seconds later. He then told them that Saphira had offered to fly them and the horses across.

"I'd rather not try it for the horses' sake. Tornac isn't as accustomed to Saphira as Snowfire. He might panic and injure both. Ask Saphira to look for shallows where we can swim over safely. If there isn't any within a mile in either direction, then I suppose she can ferry us."  
Marin had been hopeful that the plan would be scrapped right up until the last sentence. She silently prayed that there would a place where they could swim across just so that she wouldn't have to fly on Saphira again. Murtagh looked at her, raised on eyebrow, and turned away with a snort.

"Sorry we can' all be brave like ya," she snapped.

"If there isn't a crossing point, then it's flying on Saphira or drowning," Murtgah said.

"Ya'd like tha', wouldn' ya?" she mumbled.

"I wouldn't actually," Murtagh said. "You drive me near to insanity at times, but no, I don't want you to drown. It would deprive of a great deal of amusement even if it did save my sanity."

"Tha's nice," she mumbled.

The trio then sat down by the horses and ate some of their dry bread.

When Saphira returned, it was announced that she must ferry them across. Marin moaned and said, "Can I go las'?" she asked.

"I'd better go over first so I can watch the horses," Murtagh said as he scrambled into Saphira's saddle. "Be careful with Tornac. I've had him for many years. I don't want anything to happen to him. And, Eragon, she hates heights. Make sure that she goes after me, or we'll be waiting for her to cross until nightfall."

Saphira then took off before Marin could curse Murtagh. When she returned, the elf had been untied from her stomach. Eragon led Tornac over to Saphira despite the horse's whinnies. Marin felt like whinnying herself. When Eragon had properly protected the horse's underbelly properly, Saphira took off again.

"Your turn," Eragon said after both Cadoc and Snowfire had crossed.

Marin groaned and pulled herself into the saddle, burying her face in the saddle and refusing to look down. She was only aware that she had landed when she felt Murtagh's firm hand on her spine and heard him say, "Get off. I already had to tie Tornac down," into her ear. She tumbled out of the saddle, happy to be reunited with the earth.

When the horses were calmed, they set off on the race again. The horsemen were only a mile away.

Marin didn't ever remember having such little sleep. In Dras Leona, she'd been somewhat nocturnal, spending her nights and earning her living awake in the pleasure districts, but she'd slept during the day then, either on the streets or in a slum if she'd been lucky enough to afford one for a little while. During her more lucid periods, she was aware that Eragon and Murtagh were just as tired as she was. If it hadn't been for Saphira, they probably would have strayed from the path.

Eventually, Marin was jerked awake when Cadoc's legs buckled briefly on ground that had greatly softened. She blinked open her eyes to a much brighter sun than she'd gone to sleep to.

"'Adarac," she mumbled, staring at the seemingly endless sand pile ahead of them.

I hope that Eragon and Murtagh were in character in this chapter. I decided that Saphira and his riderly sense of honor would probably make Eragon feel guilty. Marin apologized because she didn't want to risk being abandoned and because she decided that she couldn't fight with two guys at once. Anyway, sorry about the long wait for the update. I've been extremely busy. I gave you guys a nice long chapter to make up for it though. By the way, I missed watching Grey's Anatomy and Ugly Betty while typing this. I hope that you all liked it.

Silver Sliver: I'm glad that you like it. It is pretty hard to write Marin's speech, but I think that I've gotten used to it. I just have to say it out loud, and that helps me write it and understand it.

AppaAndMomoForever: Thanks. I love Murtagh a lot too.

Eragonharrypotterfan: I'm glad that you like it. Yes, she and Murtagh definitely have an interesting relationship. You'll find out about Den-ner and everything else.

CaramelBoost: Mork? I like it. I'm glad that you like the tension. Yeah, Saphira's awesome, and I had to put the burn in.

Stripysockz: Yeah, that's pretty much why Eragon did what he did.

Mean titan: Thanks. I'm glad that you thought so. Sorry about the long update.

Dragonflame-05: I see what you're saying. I didn't think that Eragon would be the type to let it go though. I tried to explain why he was so mad this chapter. Oh, and Murtagh does understand. He just doesn't want to risk his heart to her.

Lady-Mystique: Thanks. Yes, Murtagh's secret-dropping will be interesting.

Narnian Sprite: Yeah, gotta love Saphira. Thanks.

PrincessBob: Thanks.

MysticLegend11: Yeah, Saphira keeps him on track.

Prettybella: I'm glad. Thanks.


	13. The Hadarac Desert

The Hadarac Desert

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Thank you. P.S. Lïornien is pronounced lie-or-nee-en.

"Remind me again," Marin said. "Wha' exac'ly are we gonna ea'?" The only animals in sight in the barren wasteland were birds.

"We're going to eat our provisions," Murtagh replied.

"What about the horses?" Eragon asked, slurring his words a little. Marin didn't blame him. The hot dry air was already stinging her throat and making her eyes water. She hated to think what a few days in this place would do to them.

"See those," Murtagh said, pointing to a group of purple crags rising in the distance. "Grass grows around them. It's short and tough, but the horses will find it sufficient."

"I hope you're right," Eragon said, squinting at the sun. "Before we continue, let's rest. My mind is slow as a snail, and I can barely move my legs."

"I agree with 'im," Marin said. "'Sides, the 'orses'll prolly drop if we don'."

"So, you've finally settled your differences with Cadoc?" Murtagh asked teasingly.

Marin shrugged. "I've come t' respec' 'im for all tha' 'e does for me an' all tha' 'e pu's up with."

They said no more as they lay down to rest.

"_They don't like you," the man from her first dream said. _

"_Ya think?" Den-ner asked. She stared absentmindedly at her palm, which was marked with a silver oval, as her other hand stroked the scales of a small, orange dragon. "Hones'ly, ya ain' exac'ly good men."  
"Don't let Adoro hear you say that," the man said with a slight snort. _

"_I don' care if 'e does," Den-ner said. "Bloody bastard needs t' ge' off 'is 'igh 'orse if ya ask me."_

"_He was the one who stole Lïornien's egg from the riders," the man said. "He seems to think that he should have had some control over its fate. As if he deserves it. A dragon egg useless until it hatches, and you made it hatch."_

"_I think I offend wha' 'e calls 'is morals in general," Den-ner said. _

"_You do," the man agreed. _

"_The others ain' like 'im though. Wha' they all go' agains' me?" _

"_Ligan and I don't like each other. I brought you here," the man began._

_Den-ner nodded. _

"_Erksken doesn't actually mind you," he continued. "Zorro doesn't believe that women belong on the battlefield, and neither does Xerxes. They think that you're a jinx."_

"_I am learnin' magic quick," Den-ner retorted. _

"_You're learning it at a reasonable pace," the man told her nonchalantly. He looked at her sideways. "You need a weapon," he stated. _

"_Wha'?" she asked. _

"_One of the elves' smiths is in that caravan over yonder," the man continued. _

"_The one we're attackin' tomorrow?" she asked. _

"_You won't participate in the battle because your dragon isn't big enough yet," the man explained. _

_Lïornien leapt up from Den-ner's lap and hissed at the man, who regarded her coolly. _

"_Wha' does the smith 'ave t' do with my weapon?" Den-ner asked, calming Lïornien down. _

"_Steal a weapon from the elfin smith, and then you'll earn your respect," the man said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. _

"_Tha's insane," Den-ner protested. "I won' do i'."_

"_It's not insane," the man said. "The smith is the only elf in that caravan. The rest are humans with whom she has been forced to travel. They are going to Doru Araeba on Vroengard. There they will furnish new swords for the riders. They will not reach there. During our siege, you steal the weapon of your choice."_

_Den-ner bit her lip and admitted, "It does make sense."_

I don't like him,_ a female voice said inside he head. _

Ya like 'is dragon fine enough, _Den-ner said with a snort. Marin realized that it must have been the little orange dragon who had spoken. _

You'll have to learn to talk as well as I can, you know. That's how you'll start to get your respect. You need to talk like them. _Lïornien said, ignoring Den-ner's previous remarks. _

Ya bold lil thing, _Den-ner snorted. _

I am,_ the female dragon acknowledged. _So are you. That's why I like you.

So tha's i', is i'? I was beginnin' t' wonder why, _Den-ner admitted. _Any'ow, we're stealin' the weapon. I's a good idea. 'Sides, I need one, don' I?

I don't think it wise,_ Lïornien simpered. _

You're two weeks ole. Whadaya know o' wisdom? _Den-ner asked. _

_The orange dragon snapped at her, and Den-ner drew her hand back. _

Wha' was tha' for? _she demanded. _

I am wise as I am a dragon. Never forget that,_ the dragon told her. _

"_What did you say?" the man asked her. _

"_I tol' 'er tha' she was only two weeks ole and prolly wasn' so wise as she thinks 'erself," Den-ner replied. _

"_Den-ner," the man said, putting a hand on her face, "you have a lot to learn."_

_The young woman looked down at the dragon in her lap and said, _We're stealin' the weapons whether ya like i' or no'. Morzan's the only one we can trus' 'ere cause we give 'im credi'.

If you say so, oh wise one,_ Lïornien replied. _

I do,_ Den-ner replied. _

_The orange dragon rolled her golden eyes. _

Marin awoke. That woman Den-ner had been a Foresworn. She was sure of it. That man had been Morzan, first, last, and greatest. There had been that dragon too. Lïornien. She realized that the second man with whom Den-ner had talked must have been Galbatorix, the Foresworns' leader and the king. She wondered what Den-ner had been like after she'd been a Foresworn for a while. What had she become? Had she been as bad as the rest? She probably had. Marin had seen how eager to please she'd been. It was the way she'd been. Not caring if what she did was wrong. Just caring that she pleased her client enough that he paid without objection. That wasn't the only thing that was bothering her. It was Morzan's voice. He'd sounded oddly like…no, that couldn't be right.

Saphira stared at her curiously, as though asking why she was still awake.

"I'll take your watch for ya," Marin offered. "I mean, I can' sleep, and I guess I owe ya for stickin' up for me."

_Wake us up in forty five minutes. The desert does not bother me, but it will be best for you to be out of here quickly,_ Saphira ordered before settling herself into the sand.

Marin did as she was told, and in forty five minutes they restarted their reckless pace even though no soldiers could be seen from the rear. When Marin asked them why they were still riding hard despite this, Eragon replied by saying, "Couriers must have carried news of my escape to Galbatorix. He would have alerted the Ra'zac. They're sure to be on our trail by now. It'll take them a while to catch us even by flying, but we should be ready for them at all times."

"Bu' coul' they follow us af'er the Ramr?" Marin asked.

"It was an effective way to lose pursuers. There's a good chance that our tracks won't be found again," Murtagh agreed.

"Something to hope for indeed," Eragon said as he went to check on the elf. She didn't even react. Marin wondered if she had died, but then supposed that Eragon would have noticed if she had stopped breathing. "I place no faith in luck right now, though," he said as he drew away from the still unresponsive elf. "The Ra'zac could be on our trail even as we speak."  
"Le's go then," Marin said, slightly scared at the thought that these monsters that she had not yet seen following them.

The next few days were pure misery. They were all sunburned; especially Marin who'd always freckled and burned rather than tanning. It would have been hard to say who was in the worst temper due to the heat, but Marin would probably have said Murtagh if she had had to pass judgment. He cursed every time something went wrong and snapped at random more than she and Eragon did. Luckily, Eragon was able to get them water from the sand so they never ran out of water.

"How long do you think it will take us to leave the desert?" Eragon asked Murtagh on their second day in the desert.

"We're only crossing a small section of it, so I can't imagine that it'll take us more than two or three days," Murtagh replied, glowering.

"We'd be'er ge' ou' o' i' soon," Marin muttered. "I don' fancy walkin' roun' like I'm blushin' all the time."

"We're all burned," Murtagh growled. "Get over it."

"I'm more burned than ya are," Marin retorted.

"Well, that's not my fault," Murtagh shot back.

"We've come far already," Eragon shouted over them. He clearly didn't have the patience to put up with their ever increasing arguments.

"All right, maybe it won't! All I care about right now is getting out of the Hadarac as quickly as possible. What we're doing is hard enough without having to pick sand from our eyes and listen to her complain every few minute," Murtagh growled.

"I don' complain every few minutes," Marin shouted.

"'Oh, i's 'o'. I'm tired. I'm burnin'…" Murtagh mimicked. "None of us like this place."

"Funnily enough, I figured tha' ou' on me own," Marin muttered. She didn't particularly like being mimicked.

"Do you two have to fight all the time?" Eragon asked. "I know that this place is hell, and I know that you can annoy each other, but fighting isn't helping us."

"Fine," Marin and Murtagh said at the same time. They ate quickly and without saying anything, though they did occasionally shoot each other glares.

After he was finished eating, Eragon went to check on the elf. Marin heard him mumble, "Where lies your injury? How can you sleep like this and live?" as he played with a strand of the elf's hair.

She rolled her eyes at him and shouted, "Le's ge'. I' ain' gonna 'elp us none t' keep 'angin' round 'ere."

Eragon pulled away from the elf, tired her to Saphira, and set off again with the other three.

Marin thought that the heat must be making her see things because after they stopped again around noon, she noticed what looked like huge mounds covered with grass the bottom and snow at the top. The worst part was that she couldn't stop seeing them by shaking her head. Finally, frustrated at the fact that she was clearly losing her head, she opened up her water skin and dumped some of it onto her head, rubbing it over her eyes, face, and neck. She blinked. It hadn't worked. She looked up and saw that Murtagh was watching her.

"Why must you insist on wasting our water?" he asked.

"You're the one 'oo was starin'," Marin muttered. "'Sides, I was 'o', and I'm seein' things."

"You are seeing things if you think that I was staring," Murtagh retorted.

Marin gave a disbelieving snort, which probably wasn't the best thing to do in hindsight.

"I didn't know that street walking made people vain," Murtagh mumbled.

"You're callin' me vain? Mr. I can do i' all. You're so demeanin' an'…"

At that point, Eragon, who had been so occupied with the mysterious mounds that he hadn't even noticed their argument, walked over to them both, grinning and pointing at the mounds.

"What?" Murtagh grunted, clearly annoyed that Eragon had interrupted him before he could retort.

"Look closely," Eragon told him.

Murtagh peered at the horizon and shrugged. "What, I don't—" The words died in his mouth and gave way to slack-jawed wonder. "That's impossible," he muttered, shaking his head. "I knew the Beor Mountains were large, but not that monstrous size!"

"So tha's wha' I kep' seein'. I though' I was losin' me mind," Marin exclaimed.

"You could have said that," Murtagh told her.

"I did," she replied.

"You still shouldn't have dumped water on yourself," he told her.

"I'm 'o', and I'm tired. Ge' over i'," Marin retorted.

"You're impossible," he mumbled.

"Will you two stop fighting and just pray that the animals that live in those mountains aren't in proportion to them?" Eragon shouted.

Marin snorted, and Murtagh cracked a smile. "It will be good to find some shade and spend a few weeks in leisure. I've had enough of this forced march."

"Amen," Marin chimed in.

"I'm tired too," Eragon admitted, "but I don't want to stop until the elf is cured…or she dies."

"I don't see how continuing to travel will help her," Murtagh protested. "A bed will do her more good than hanging underneath Saphira all day."

"Yeah, I mean we're all tired, and she prolly doesn' like 'angin' from a dragon…if she can notice anything now," Marin added.

"Maybe," Eragon said with a shrug. "When we reach the mountains, I could take her to Surda—it's not that far. There must be a healer there who can help her; we certainly can't."

"We can talk about it later," Murtagh said after looking at the mountains once more. "For now, our goal is to reach the Beors. There, at least, the Ra'zac will have trouble finding us, and we will be safe from the Empire."

As they traveled onward, the mountains seemed to get no closer—though that might have been because of their size—but the landscape changed. The sand became more liked dirt, and they began to find plants as well as a breeze. It invigorated the horses.

Finally, one evening it was announced that they were only a league away from the mountains foothills. Eragon, Murtagh, and Marin camped by a stream as Saphira went to hunt the gazelle herds that roamed through the tall grass.

"Well, we're outta tha' 'ell leastwise," Marin said, raising her newly refilled waterskin.

"Cheers," Murtagh said. Together they all toasted each other, and Saphira crowed jubilantly. They were free of the Empire, the place that had once been their home and where they were now all wanted for crimes again king and crown.

I know that nothing much happened in this chapter, but that was how it was in the book. I threw in a dream and a fight between Marin and Murtagh to make it less storytelling of stuff that we'd already read. I am trying to stick to the book, so I kept most of the dialogue. Anyway, here are the review responses.

PrincessBob: Thanks.

Not magical me: Oh, that'll be interesting. At least I hope that it will. I can't wait until they reach the Varden, personally.

Stripysockz: Aw, thanks. I did like writing that part. I'm glad that you liked the eavesdropping bit too. I had to have Eragon and Marin make up. I knew that our honorable little rider would have to justify himself to Saphira, or at least try to, which would lead to him talking to Marin, who had to decide that she didn't need to be fighting with both Eragon and Murtagh. I hope that you liked the Murtagh/Marin banter/fight in this chapter.

CaramelBoost: Ah, well, it's still a good insult. I decided to have Murtagh and Marin fight a bit in this chapter because they were both in a bad mood and because we can't have them getting along all the time. I forgive you for the shortness of this review. LOL. Anyway, I'm glad they're IC.

CelticPuzzleStrangerRanger: Thanks. I'm glad that you liked my response to Flame Rising.

Narnian Sprite: Thanks. That was what I was trying to do. Glad that you think I did.

Mean Titan: Thanks. I'm glad that you liked that part. It was fun to write.

Adriannrod Svit-Kona Sama: Thanks.

Silver Sliver: LOL. That's where I got that particular line. It was too good to pass up. I'm glad that you thought they were IC.

Dragonflame-05: Thanks. I wasn't planning on making it a big deal at the Varden for the reason you mentioned. I mean, they're all preoccupied with Murtagh, so they don't really care about that.

Eragonharrypotterfan: Thanks. Sorry about the trio bit. I read too much Harry Potter. PoA 11 or 12 times! Woot!


	14. A Kiss and a Fight

A Kiss and a Fight

After they'd eaten, Marin sat on her log and stared into the distance, watching the sun set over the cursed desert. She was outside of the Empire. It was a strange thought. For the first sixteen years of her life, she'd lived in Dras Leona and never left it. In the past few months, she'd passed Urû'baen, been through Gil'ead and the Hadarac Desert, and was now camped by the Beor Mountains. The only people whom she'd ever truly known had been tramps, thieves, beggars, and shopkeepers. Now she was traveling with some noble, an unconscious elf, and a farm boy who was also a dragon rider. She'd never predicted that she'd be with a dragon rider of all people. She'd never even truly believed in elves or dragons, and here she was, mere feet from both.

She wasn't even sure how to feel about all of this. For two years, she'd only been worth what someone would pay for her. Now she didn't how to measure her worth. It seemed as though Eragon and Murtagh measured her differently, though she didn't know how either one chose to. Eragon had reservations about her past, but he'd live with it, and in the end, he'd let it go. But Murtagh wouldn't. He wouldn't hurt her for it, but he wouldn't forget it or just let it go. It bothered him, she could tell. He didn't trust her, and Eragon did. Eragon had realized that he only needed to trust her with his life, and she wouldn't take that from him. Murtagh must have realized that he could trust her with his life, but he seemed to hate the thought of feeling anything for her, even if it was just lust. She could see it whenever she came closer to him. Deep down inside she understood why. He wasn't afraid of feeling. He was afraid what she'd do with anything that he felt. He didn't see her as somebody that he could trust, and she didn't blame him for it. Her job had been to make men believe what they wanted to believe even if wasn't what was true. She'd been something that was meant to be fun, not to be loved.

But he'd almost kissed her that one time outside of Gil'ead before her tattoos and her own carelessness had betrayed her. Why had he done that? He hadn't known of her past at that moment, and what he'd been about to do had excited her. She'd wanted it. She'd wanted him. Why? She looked over at him. He certainly was attractive, at least when he was clean, and his build was good, but that wasn't unusual. She'd seen men like that. Eragon was rather good-looking too, she supposed. And she'd always considered Jamison attractive even if he was skinny. He'd been pretty if he'd been anything, really, and he hated to be told that more than anything. All in all, Murtagh was attractive and at times funny, even if she could never truly understand him. She supposed that she just had some sort of attraction to him. That was it. It was just some passing infatuation. Well, it probably wasn't even that. Just an attraction. That was all. Of course it was. And attractions weren't a problem. She was used to feigning them and at times actually having them.

Marin yawned as she stared into the fire. She decided that it would be more interesting to look at that than to think about things that didn't really matter.

Murtagh looked away from Eragon who had gone to check on the elf once again. His eyes scanned the campsite and fell upon Marin. He sighed. She'd fallen asleep in front of the fire. For a moment, he considered waking her up but decided that since they were probably going to sleep, he would just move her away from the fire. She was already leaning forward and looked dangerously close to falling in.

He moved behind her and wrapped on arm around her waist. She leaned back against him, sighing lightly and muttering something incomprehensible. Murtagh bit down on his lip. The feel of her small body against his felt better than it probably should have. He maneuvered her form so that her left side was facing his front. He slid one hand on her knees and lifted her from her spot. He grunted slightly. For such a small creature, she was surprisingly solid.

When he laid her down on her bedroll, he had a surprise. Her arms slid around his neck as she pulled herself up to his mouth. She paused only a moment so that he felt her breath upon his mouth before she kissed him.

Murtagh's eyes widened. He was too shocked to react. Marin sighed and pulled away, turning over onto her side, mumbling another incomprehensible thing. She was clearly still in a very deep sleep.

Murtagh didn't believe it. She'd done that on purpose, he decided. She must have found some benefit in seducing him, and she'd pretended to be asleep in hopes that something like this would happen.

He looked down at her again. She was quite good at pretending to be asleep. Her breathing certainly resembled that of a sleeping person, and her eyes weren't even slightly opened, at least not that he could see. Her bow-tie mouth was opened slightly, showing a little of her pink tongue and her little white teeth. He vaguely touched his mouth. They were still slightly damp, and Marin's taste lingered there.

Murtagh realized what he was doing, threw his hands up in the air, grunted in frustration, and walked away. He sat down next to Saphira, who was watching Eragon with a mix of worry and curiosity. The young rider had his hand on the elf's forehead, and he was grimacing. Suddenly, he relaxed slightly.

Murtagh continued to watch him with Saphira.

"Is he talking to her?" Murtagh asked incredulously.

_Possibly,_ the dragon replied.

"He can't be though," Murtagh said, shaking his head. "She's catatonic."

Saphira gave what must have been the dragonish equivalent of a shrug and continued to stare.

When Eragon finally moved his hand from the elf's forehead and turned to look at them, Murtagh asked him if he was alright and told him that he'd been kneeling there for fifteen minutes.

"I have?" Eragon asked, blinking in surprise.

_Yes, and grimacing like a pained gargoyle,_ Saphira said with a slight laugh.

Eragon stood, wincing as his cramped knees stretched. "I talked with Arya!"

_Now he's going insane,_ Murtagh thought. Arya…he didn't know who that was, and he was quite sure that Eragon couldn't have talked to her.

"The elf—that's her name," Eragon explained when he noticed Murtagh's expression.

_And what is it that ails her? _Saphira asked.

Eragon then began to tell them a story of how the elf had been administered a rare but fatal poison known as the Skilna Bragh and that she needed to be taken to the Varden in three or four days.

"Oh, grea'," Marin mumbled, rising from her nap. "More ridin'."

"So you were awake," Murtagh mumbled.

Marin cocked her head to the side. "I didn' even realize I'd fallen asleep. 'Oo moved me?"

"I did," Murtagh replied.

"Thanks," she said with a shrug.

Murtagh stared at her. She didn't seem to remember what she'd done when he'd laid her down. Maybe it was just an act. But what good was there in that? Maybe she wanted him to acknowledge it? Well, he wouldn't play her game if that was the case.

He turned to Eragon and asked, "How far away are the Varden?"

"I'm not exactly sure. From what she showed me, I think it's even farther than here to Gil'ead."

Marin's mouth dropped open.  
"We won' ge' t' sleep again," she mumbled.

Murtagh seemed to be thinking along those lines. "And we're supposed to cover that in three days?" he demanded angrily. It took us five _long_ days to get here. What do you want to do? Kill the horses? They're exhausted as it is."

"But if we do nothing, she'll die!" If it's too much for the horses, Saphira can fly ahead with Arya andme; at least we could get to the Varden in time. You could catch up with us in a few days," Eragon suggested.

Marin thought that it sounded like a good plan. They'd get to the Varden; the elf wouldn't die; and she'd be able to get a truly decent rest.

Murtagh didn't. "Of course. Murtagh the pack animal. Murtagh the horse leader. I should have remember that's all I'm good for nowadays. Oh, and let's not forget, every soldier in the empire is searching for me now because you couldn't defend yourself, and I had to go and _save_ you. Yes, I'll suppose I'll just follow your instructions and bring up the rear like a good servant."

Marin raised her eyebrows. "I did 'elp with tha'. 'Sides, i's not like i's a bad idea. I mean, we ge' sleep, and Arya, or wha'ever 'er name, is doesn' die."

Murtagh closed his eyes, his lips twisted into a sarcastic smile. "Oh, yes. You whored to get us in there. I should remember that that's all that you're good for."

Marin drew in her breath and stared at him. Did he really think that little of her? She bit down on her lip. Gods, he wouldn't make her cry. Nobody made her cry. Not just by calling her a whore. But he hadn't just called her a whore. He'd told her that she wasn't good for anything else.

"Well, whadiya expec'?" she asked. "I' ain' like I go' anyone t' teach me anything else. I' ain' like there was much else 'sides thievin' tha' coul' 'elp, and I did tha' too. So ge' o'er i' an' grow up."

She smiled bitterly. So she'd thought of something to say. That was good.

"I shouldn't have expected anything more than that. I'm sorry if I did," Murtagh said quietly.

Marin gaped at him. How was it that he always managed to make her feel as if she'd somehow disappointed him? It was uncanny, really. He always knew what to say.

"What's wrong with you?" Eragon demanded. "I'm grateful for what you did. There's no reason to be angry with me! I didn't ask you to accompany me or to rescue me from Gil'ead. You chose that. I haven't forced you to do anything."

"Oh, not openly, no. What else could I do but help you with the Ra'zac? And then later, at Gil'ead, how could I have left with a clear conscience? The problem with you," Murtagh said, poking Eragon in the chest, "is that you are so totally helpless that you force everyone to take care of you!"

Eragon looked hurt. "Don't touch me," he growled.

Murtagh laughed. It was worse than his smile a minute ago. "Or what, you'll punch me? You couldn't hit a brick wall." He went to shove Eragon again, and Eragon decided to disprove his last statement by punching Murtagh in the stomach.

"I said, 'Don't touch me!'" Eragon shouted.

Murtagh doubled over, swearing. He then launched himself at Eragon, and they began to wrestle, each trying to injure the other.

"Oh, bloody fuckin' wonderful," Marin mumbled. "Jus' wha' I need. Ya'd think this kinda thing wouldn' 'appen when there's no' any ale 'round, and you're supposed t' be honorable or sommat!" She shouted the last part of the wrestling boys. Neither of them paid attention to her.

Marin sucked in her breath and screamed every single insult that she'd ever heard at them. They didn't seem to hear a single word.

"Stop it!" she shouted, having run out of anything more creative to say. "Please?" She'd decided to try begging. It didn't work any better than screaming.

It was Saphira who took care of it. When Eragon finally managed to push Murtagh off of him and they'd gotten up, Saphira slapped her tail down between them, and when Eragon tried to jump over it, she pinned both him and Murtagh down.

_Enough!_ she shouted.

Marin stood in front of them, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I'd repea' everything tha' I said back there since neither one o' ya 'eard me, bu' I don' really feel like i'. Ya two are both pathetic. Fightin' ain' gonna solve anything. And one comment abou' me pas', jus' one, and you're gonna regre' i'."

"Why?" Murtagh asked, snorting cynically.

_I'll disembowel you, _Saphira said. _Whatever she did, you two were just as bad a few minutes ago and with less reason. Fighting like starving dogs over a scrap of meat. What would Brom say?_

"Worse than the thievin' whore. 'Ellgrin' an' 'ellfire, tha' can' be easy on your pride," Marin said.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Murtagh asked her.

"With wha' ya jus' said t' me? Aye, I'm enjoyin' i'," Marin replied, baring her teeth.

Murtagh rolled his eyes and growled. He titled his head up to the sky and asked, "Well, is she going to get off us?"

"No, not unless we talk…She wants me to ask you what's really the problem," Eragon admitted with a great deal of embarrassment.

Saphira growled to confirm what Eragon had just said.

Marin chortled. Her expression plainly said, "This'll be good."

Murtagh shrugged, muttering something under his breath. Saphira responded by tightening her grip on his chest, and her tail swished over his head. The young man glared at the dragon and then said, "I told you before: I don't want to go to the Varden."

"Don't want to…or can't?" Eragon asked.

Murtagh tried to shove Saphira's leg off him, then gave up with a curse. "Don't want to! "They'll expect things from me that I can't deliver."

"Did you steal something from them?" Eragon asked.

"I wish it were that simple."

"Didja fail t' steal sommat for or from 'em?" Marin asked.

"How would that be more difficult?" Murtagh asked.

"Well, then ya'd be a failure," she said with a shrug.

Murtagh just stared at her.

"Wha' then? Murder? Rape? Adultery?" Marin asked.

"No, I was born," Murtagh said cryptically. He pushed at Saphira again, and she let them both up.

"You're avoiding the question," Eragon accused.

"So what?" Murtagh spat as he stomped to the edge of the camp. After a pause, he said, "It doesn't matter why I'm in this predicament, but I can tell you that the Varden wouldn't welcome me even if I came bearing the king's head. Oh, they might greet me nicely enough and let me into their councils, but trust me? Never. And if I were to arrive under less fortuitous circumstances, like the present ones, they'd likely clap me in irons."

"Won't you tell me what this is about?" Eragon asked. "I've done things that I'm not proud of too, so it's not as if I'm going to pass judgment."

"If all ya did was ge' born, I go' nuttin' agains' ya," Marin put in. "I've prolly known a 'undred worse than ya, so jus' tell us, and then we'll figure i' ou'. 'Sides, ya all know wha' I did."

Murtagh shook his head slowly. He looked to laugh, cry, or perhaps both.

"You think that they care about your crimes? It can't hurt them. You're not…" Murtagh cut himself off. He shook his head again. "It isn't like I've _done_ anything to deserve this treatment, though it would be easier to atone for if I had. No…my only wrongdoing is in existing in the first place. You see, my father…" Marin held her breath. So she was about to hear Murtagh's secret.

Saphira hissed suddenly. _Look!_

They all followed her gaze.

"Demons above and below," Murtagh whispered.

"'Ellgrin' an' 'ellfire," Marin muttered. "Wha's tha'?"

A huge column was just visible in the distance. It seemed to stretch for miles, and at its head, there was a figure the flag of the Empire.  
"It's the Empire," Eragon said tiredly. "They've found us…somehow."

Marin sat down and just stared. "We gotta run," she muttered. "Gotta ge' away." The danger of what she was doing hit her for the first time. She was liable to lose her head instead of her hand this time.

"Those are Urgals, not men," Murtagh said.

"How can you tell?" Eragon asked.

Marin stood, squinting. She could barely make out the individual figures.

"That flag bears the personal symbol of an Urgal chieftain. He's a ruthless brute, given to violent fits and insanity."

"Ya've me' 'im?" Marin asked, her interest getting the better of her. Maybe Murtagh's father was an Urgal? She almost snorted. That was ridiculous. Murtagh clearly didn't have any Urgal in him.

Murtagh's eyes tightened. "Once, briefly. I still have scars from that encounter. These Urgals might not have been sent here for us, but I'm sure we've been seen by now and that they will follow us. Their chieftain isn't the sort to let a dragon escape his grasp, especially if he's heard about Gil'ead."

Eragon ran to the fire to cover it. "We have to flee! You don't want to go to the Varden, but I have to take Arya to them before she dies. Here's a compromise: come with me until I reach the lake Kóstha-mérna, then go on your own way." Murtagh hesitated. Eragon added, "If you leave now, in sight of the column, Urgals will follow you. And then where will you be, facing them alone?"

"Very well," Murtagh said, saddling Tornac, "but when we near the Varden, I _will_ leave."

Marin almost asked him a few more questions since he had seemed so ready to answer them earlier before but decided against it. Now didn't seem like a good time.

She saddled Cadoc, thankful that she'd remembered how to, and rode off on the biggest race for her life yet.

So, that's the end of chapter 14. Sorry about the long update. Been busy. Yada, yada, yada. I'm going to NYC this weekend, and I've gotta get this done. I'll just PM you review responses later or do them in the next chapter.


	15. A Question of Murder

A Question of Murder

Disclaimer: If I owned Eragon, Marin would be in it. As it is, she's all that I own, and the plot and the characters belong to Christopher Paolini.

Marin felt herself being jilted awake as she slipped to the side of her saddle. She pulled herself up and looked around. She was really amazed that she'd gotten good enough at riding to be able to sleep in the saddle and be awoken before she fell off. Then again, weeks and weeks of pure, unadulterated riding could do the trick. And now they were riding faster than ever, being pursued by Urgals and trying to save an elf at the same time. She'd been in better situations, she decided. At least she wasn't one of the horses. She hoped that they'd survive. She and the boys would have to do the running then.

They stopped for just a moment so that Eragon could move Arya from Saphira, who was hungry and going off to hunt, to Snowfire. He earned a great deal of respect in her eyes by choosing to run alongside the horse. As soon as she had that thought, she snorted. She wondered what Eragon would think if he knew that_ he'd_ had to earn_ her_ respect. She certainly hadn't earned his. Another thing that amazed her was how he and Murtagh were actually getting along well enough after last night's violent fight. It seemed as though all men sorted out their problems by fighting and then forgetting. It was a pity that they had to hurt each other in the process. It was also a pity that she couldn't do stop fighting with people that easily.

Within an hour, Saphira finished hunting, and they stopped by a stream to let the horses drink. Marin saw Eragon pluck a strand of grass and stare at the elf. She didn't think that she'd ever seen any male so ga-ga for any female. Then again, Dante had looked just a bit pathetic staring at Seleyn at times. Would Eragon kill the shade if Arya died? Marin wondered. Maybe he would, and maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd died trying. Who knew?

She and Eragon both snapped out of their reverie as the sound of metal against metal rang out. Eragon unsheathed Zar'roc, and Marin unsheathed her dagger. They just saw Murtagh standing there, his sword drawn.

"Wha' is i'?" Marin asked.

Murtagh just pointed at a group of horsemen positioned on the nearest hill. Their leader held what appeared to be a large, spiked ball on a stick. What was that weapon called again? Marin pondered the question while Murtagh asked, "Could they be the Varden?"

"I 'ope so," Marin said, abandoning her quest to identify the mystery weapon.

"According to Arya, they're still scores of leagues away. This might be one of their patrol or raiding groups," Eragon put in.

"Assuming they're not bandits," Murtagh said. He swung himself into Tornac and readied his bow, reminding Marin that she should probably do the same.

She hoped that she'd improved her aim since last time. Murtagh gave her a look that conveyed the same message.

"If they are bandi's, they're good," she mumbled.

When Eragon and Murtagh looked at her strangely, she said, "Well, they go' good weapons and good 'orses." When they continued to look at her, she said, "Look, I ain' gonna join 'em. I was jus' sayin' sommat."

"Should we try to outrun them?" Eragon asked, choosing not to comment on what Marin had said. He simply draped a blanket over Arya.

"It wouldn't do any good," Murtagh said, shaking his head. "Tornac, Snowfire, and Cadoc are fine warhorses, but they're tired, and they aren't sprinters. Look at the horses those men have; they're meant for running. They would catch us before we had gone a half-mile. Besides, they may have something important to say. You better tell Saphira to hurry back."

Eragon's face had already assumed the expression that he always wore when talking with his dragon.

The band of men watched them from the hill.

The three travelers gripped their weapons more tightly.

Eragon spoke first. "If they threaten us, I can frighten them away with magic. If that doesn't work, there's Saphira. I wonder how they'd react to a rider. So many stories are told about their powers…It might be enough to avoid a fight."

"Don't count on it," Murtagh said flatly. "If there's a fight, we'll have to kill enough of them to kill enough of them to convince them that we're not worth the effort." His face was set. He'd clearly been in this situation before. Marin wondered why, if he had money, he'd gotten into those situations. Maybe riches didn't equal happiness. Maybe that wasn't how it worked in the Empire.

The man on his horse waved the mystery weapon, and the horses surged forward, surrounding them. Several of them had small spears, and four of them were archers who trained their arrows on the small group. Marin looked out of the corner of her eye at Eragon, whose lip twitched, and then at Murtagh, whose face was hardened. Neither was going to go down without a fight.

The leader looked them all over. "Well, these are better than the usual dregs we find! At least we got healthy ones this time. The girl's a little scrawny, but some men'll like that. She'll be easy to roll. And these men'll be able to work harder than most. And we didn't have to shoot them. Grieg will be pleased." The men chuckled.

Marin narrowed her eyes. She'd heard that before. Where? Oh, yes. Jamison had said that.

Murtagh's eyes narrowed as well, though he probably wasn't trying to figure out where he'd heard that before. Eragon looked slightly appalled by the crudeness and even more concerned by the rest of what the leader had said.

Marin drew in her breath. She'd realized what these men were: slavers. She'd seen a few auctions in Dras Leona; though, she'd never paid much attention. She wondered if that was a good thing now or not.

"Now, if the three of you would be so good as to drop your weapons, you'll avoid being turned into living quivers by my men," the leader said. The men all laughed and gestured with their bows.

Murtagh's only movement was to shift his sword. "Who are you, and what do you want? We are free men traveling through this land. You have no right to stop us."

"Oh, I have every right," the man sneered. "And as for my name, _slavers_ do not address their masters in that manner, unless they want to be beaten."

Eragon cursed beside her.

The leader looked frustrated. "Throw down your weapons and surrender!" The rest of the slavers looked unnerved by the fact that none of them had lowered their weapons. They clearly weren't used to this.

The blankets rustled, and all three whipped around. One of the slavers had found Arya. "Torkenbrand!" he exclaimed. "This one's an elf."

All of the men gaped at Arya as Torkenbrand strode over to her, pushing Marin into the dirt as he passed her, and whistled as he looked over Arya.

"'Ey, tha' ain' yours t' touch," Marin shouted, picking herself up from the ground.

Torkenbrand turned to her and advanced on her. It occurred to Marin that she was closer to him than to Eragon and Murtagh. He grabbed her by the neck and said, "You'd better watch that mouth of yours. If you don't, it'll be beaten out of you. Now, be a good little girl, and apologize."

The men watched in amusement while they celebrated over the discovery of an elf, the king's greatest desire.

Marin kneed him in the groin instead. She jumped over him and ran for the bow which she had left on the ground. She strung it and waited.

Torkenbrand cursed her as he writhed on the ground. Eragon had apparently given Murtagh a signal as the older man brandished his sword as Tornac reared forward. He smashed his elbow into a slaver's face and jabbed his heels into Tornac. The warhorse jumped, twisted, and reared, driving his hooves into the back of the dismounted slaver. The man screamed.

Before the slavers could gather their senses, Eragon scrambled out of the commotion and shouted foreign words. A huge mass of bright blue fire appeared in the middle of them. Marin leapt back as Saphira swooped down and landed next to her rider. Unfortunately, she fell into a slaver. He twisted her arm behind her back, disarming her. She screamed in pain as pain shot from her elbow to her shoulder, and then she stepped down on his foot. He released her arm, and she managed to grab her discarded arrow with her uninjured hand and impale him on it. She gasped and stepped back as she pulled it from his chest. She'd never done that before. There was so much blood. Had it been like this when she'd killed the Urgal? She couldn't remember.

Meanwhile, Eragon shouted, "Behold! I am a Rider!" He waived his red sword over his head and shouted, "Flee if you wish to live!" She turned away from her kill and watched the slavers run away. Only Torkenbrand, who had risen only to be struck on the head with a javelin, remained.

The head slaver struggled to his knees as blood ran down his face, but Murtagh decided to put a stop to that. He dismounted and strode over to him, sword drawn. Torkenbrand raised his arm as if to ward off a blow. Murtagh simply looked at him coldly before he swung his sword at his neck. "No!" Eragon shouted a moment after the blow fell.

Marin almost gagged in revulsion. Two men had been killed right in front of her today. True, their deaths had been necessary, but it didn't erase the fact that her left arm was stained with his blood and that her right arm was bruised and in pain. She rubbed it absentmindedly, looking away from her slaver as she'd now decided to call him. She still clutched her arrow in her other hand. For once, she had nothing to say. Eragon clearly did not have the same problems.

"Is your brain rotten?" he demanded of Murtagh. "Why did you kill him?"

Murtagh wiped his sword on the back of Torkenbrand's jerkin, staining the leather. "I don't see why you're so upset—"

"Upset?" Eragon exclaimed. "I'm well past that! Did it even occur to you that we could just leave him here and continue on our way? No! Instead you turn into an executioner and chop off his head. He was defenseless!"

Murtagh looked confused by Eragon's wrath. He wasn't used to fighting with boy, and now he had twice in the past few days. "Well, we couldn't keep him around—he _was_ dangerous. The others ran off…without a horse he wouldn't have made it far. I didn't want the Urgals to find him and learn about Arya. So I thought it would—"

"But to _kill_ him?" Eragon interrupted. Saphira sniffed Torkenbrand's head curiously. She opened her mouth, as if to snap it up, then appeared to decide better of it and prowled to Eragon's side.

Marin couldn't help it; she laughed at absolute absurdity of the situation. Even Eragon's own dragon didn't agree with him.

"You think this is funny?" the rider demanded.

"Tha' 'e's dead? No. I' was jus' funny when she tried t' ea' 'is 'ead is all," Marin replied.

"That head should be on his body!" Eragon shouted.

"I ain' 'appy tha' e's dead, but there wasn' much else t' be done. I mean, 'e already caused us trouble, and 'e prolly wouldn' catch up t' the men, wha' with 'ow fas' they ran away," Marin said.

"You're just as bad as he is," Eragon mumbled. "No. Wait. You're worse. You'll do whatever you can if you think it'll help you. Look at what you did. You impaled that man on an arrow. And look at what you did before you met us. You sold your body, and you stole from innocent people."

"In me defense, 'e did attack me. I didn' mean t' kill 'im. I' jus' sorta 'appened," Marin mumbled, "an' we already discussed wha' I used t' do. I did i' t' survive. Mayhap your honor matters more t' ya than livin', but i' don' t' me, and I'm sorry for tha', and you're jus' gonna 'ave t' live with i' cause if ya leave me 'ere, I'll tell the Urgals all abou' ya!" By the end of her speech she was yelling.

"When will you learn to shut up?" Eragon asked her.

"Personally, I'd be more concerned with the fact that she still hasn't figured out that an arrow isn't a second dagger; it's meant to shot with a bow," Murtagh remarked. "And leave her alone. She's only trying to stay alive as am I. No stranger's life is more important than my own."

"But you can't indulge in wanton violence. Where is your empathy?" Eragon asked, pointing to Torkenbrand's severed head.

"Empathy? Empathy? What empathy can I afford my enemies? Shall I dither about whether to defend myself because it will cause someone pain? If that had been the case, I would have died years ago! You must be willing to protect yourself and what you cherish, not matter what the cost," Murtagh shouted.

Eragon slammed Zar'roc into its sheath, shaking his head savagely. "You can justify any atrocity with that reasoning."

"Do you think I enjoy this?" Murtagh yelled back. "My life has been threatened from the day I was born. All of my waking hours have been spent avoiding danger in one form or another. And sleep never comes easily because I always worry if I'll live to see the dawn. If there ever was a time I felt secure, it must have been in my mother's womb, though I wasn't safe even there! You don't understand - if you lived with this _fear_, you would have learned the same lesson I did: _Do not take chances_."

Marin's curiosity continued to be aroused. What had Murtagh's life been like before he'd met them? Did this have anything to do with his father? Who had he been, and had he hurt Murtagh? She knew that some parents hurt their children even if her own father had been good to her. One of the few things that she knew about Jamison was that his mother had been a drug addict who forgot his name at times and who left him to fend for himself. She knew that Seleyn's father had used to beat her, and the one day, he either threw her out for some inexplicable reason or she'd left there herself.

"He was a risk that I removed," Murtagh said at last. "I refuse to repent, and I won't plague myself over what is done and past."

Eragon shoved his face into Murtagh's. "It was still the wrong thing to do. And why are you telling me to lay off Marin? You fight with her all the time, and everything that I said was true."

"When you do fight with her, you're worse to her than I am," Murtagh replied. "As to your first statement, I have nothing more to say on that matter."

"Let's just go," Eragon said as he lashed Arya back onto Saphira and then climbed onto Saphira.

By the end of the day, they had reached two pincher-like arms that only appeared to be close together, at least according to Murtagh and Eragon. When they stopped for the day, Eragon agreed to take the first watch. As he sat down, he was surprised to see Marin rise from her bedroll and come over to sit beside him.

"I though' tha' ya weren' angry a' me anymore," she said.

"I lost my temper today," he told her. "I was angry at you and Murtagh for killing the slavers."

"I didn' 'ave a choice," Marin said simply. "'E was attackin' me. 'E 'ur' me arm. Really, I didn' wan' t'."

"Let me see your arm," Eragon said after a long pause.

Marin positioned herself in front of him so that he could see it.

"I've ne'er killed a man before," she said quietly.

"Neither have I. I've just killed Urgals," Eragon said as he ran his fingers over the bruises on her arm. She jumped and hissed in pain.

"Sorry," Eragon told her.

"I's fine," she said.

"Waíse heill," the blue rider chanted. Marin felt a strange chill creep up her arm, and then the chill and the pain vanished.

"Thanks," she told him. On a whim, she leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. She lingered there for a moment or two, laughing to herself at Eragon's reaction.

Eragon's eyes were wide as he stared at her. "Marin…"  
"I know," she said. "Ya wan' the elf, and ya don' think too much o' me. I jus' fel' like doin' tha'. Migh' as well kiss someone cause I wan'ed too, eh?"

"You shouldn't have done that," Eragon said quietly.

"Look, I'm sorry," she said, putting her hand on Eragon's face. Suddenly, she felt a great wave of jealousy and disapproval sweep over her. She turned to see Saphira observing them both dispassionately. Marin moved her hand away.

"Marin, you don't care about me," Eragon said, "and you didn't want to do that."

Marin rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to retort before Eragon said, "Maybe you wanted to do it then, but you just wanted to see what I would do. You're angry at me, and that was your revenge. Also, you want Murtagh, but you know that he wouldn't just put up with that, so you kissed me instead."

Marin gaped at him. He'd read that situation exactly right.

"Oh come on. I ain' bad a' kissin,'" she said.

"I…um…realized that. And Saphira interpreted the situation," he admitted.

"Tell 'er she's righ'," Marin said as she went over to her bedroll to go back to sleep.

"I also would like to add that it would be better for you if you stopped teasing me about Arya," Eragon added.

She grinned at him. "'Oo knew ya coul' blackmail, rider?"

Yes, I know that that was a little weird at the end, but I just felt like doing that. And I thought it seemed like something that Marin would do. And Eragon had to get the upper-hand on her once. It couldn't just be Murtagh doing that.

And I'm upset at my parents. They're making fun of my dream dog. Is it so bad that I want to get a pug and name it Pugsley? Anyway, here are the review responses. Oh, and I had great time in New York.

Cha-chan-hyper: Yeah, I don't really know where that one came from, but oh well. I'm glad that you liked that.

Lady Mystique: Yeah, he can definitely be, but we love him anyway. I'm glad that you like my writing. Thanks so much.

Queen of the Mary Sue: Oh, thanks. I hope that I updated quickly enough.

Stormy: Thanks for that. I didn't want to rush into the romance because that just wouldn't make sense. I'm also glad that you like the accent. It is hard to write, but I'm getting better at it. Sorry about the predictability. I try to work with that. I'm glad that you like this story.

Eragonharrypotterfan: Thanks. I tried to add her well.

MysticLegend11: That she does. I thought that it would be an interesting thing to try. Yeah, I had fun in New York. That sucks about the documentary thing.

Issylt: Aw. Thanks. I'm glad that you like the romance. I do love Murtagh.

Stripysockz: I can't wait for to write that part. It's next chapter. I hope that I can do it well. And yes, I am planning on writing a sequel.


	16. Confessions

Confessions

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Thank you.

Eragon woke Marin and Murtagh up early and took off with Saphira and Arya. He seemed very eager to get away from both of his human companions.

"Guess 'e's mad a' us," Marin muttered as she mounted Cadoc.

"Why would he be angry at you?" Murtagh asked, his eyes searching her.

Marin shivered slightly. She didn't like it when he looked at her like that; it was as though he knew something that she didn't want him to know.

"Well?" Murtagh asked when she didn't respond.

Marin shrugged and said, "I guess 'e's jus' mad a' ya then." With that, she dug her heels into Cadoc's side. The horse didn't like it and rushed forward with unexpected speed. He buckled abruptly nearly throwing Marin off. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, trying to hang on.

Murtagh, who hadn't mounted his horse yet, grabbed the horse's reins and shouted, "Let go. He doesn't like that."

When Marin refused to let go, Murtagh repeated his order. She finally did so, and Cadoc calmed down again.

"Didn't you learn you lesson the last time that you tried that?" Murtagh asked.

"I wasn' thinkin', an'…" Marin tried to explain herself, but Murtagh cut her off.

"You don't think, do you? You just do whatever the hell you feel like doing because it seems like a good idea, but then you realize it was wrong, and you still won't fix it. Then you almost die because you're too far in to fix your mistake yourself, and someone else has to help you."

Marin was quiet for a moment. She had nothing to say to him, not when what he'd said was true.

"Le's jus' go," she said grumpily.

"Just do it right this time," Murtagh told her.

Soon after they started off, Saphira landed beside them.

"What now?" Murtagh asked Eragon curtly.

"The Urgals are overtaking us," the rider explained, pointing back to their camp from yesterday. Marin gulped when she saw that the Urgals were there.

"How far do we still have to go?" Murtagh asked, putting his hands against the sky. Marin assumed that he was somehow gauging the time of day.

"Normally?" Eragon asked. "I would guess another five day. At the speed we've been traveling, only three. But unless we get there tomorrow, the Urgals will probably catch us, and Arya will certainly die."

"Well, we're due for some luck," Marin remarked. "Mayhap, she'll las' another day."

"We can't count on it," Eraogn objected. "The only way we can get to the Varden in time is if we don't stop for anything, least of all sleep. That's our only chance."

Murtagh laughed bitterly. "How can you expect to do that? We've already gone days without adequate sleep. Unless riders are made of different stuff than us mortals, you're as tired as I am. We've covered a staggering distance, and horses, in case you haven't noticed, are ready to drop. Another day of this might kill us all."

Eragon shrugged. "So be it. We don't have a choice."

Marin sighed. He was right. They couldn't just let Arya die, and the Urgals were after them.

"I could leave with Marin and let you fly ahead with Saphira…That would force the Urgals to divide and would give you a better chance of reaching the Varden," Murtagh suggested.

"Um, I really don' wanna die now," Marin put in.

"She's right," Eragon said. "It would be suicide. Somehow, these Urgals are faster on foot than we are on horseback. They would run you down like a deer. The only way to evade them is to find sanctuary with the Varden."

"I'll escape later," Murtagh said. Marin stared at him. He _still _didn't want to go to the Varden? It wasn't as though they had a choice. And she didn't want him to go. "When we get to the Varden, I can disappear down a side valley and find my way to Surda, where I can hide without attracting too much attention."

"So you're staying?" Eragon asked.

"Sleep or no sleep, I'll see you to the Varden," Murtagh promised.

"Why doncha wanna go t' the Varden?" Marin asked him shortly after Saphira had taken off with Eragon and Arya and they'd ridden off.

Murtagh didn't turn to look at her; he simply concentrated on the path ahead of them, and Marin looked away, deciding that he wasn't going to answer her.

"Why do you want to know?" Murtagh's voice cut unexpectedly through the air.

"I dunno," Marin replied. "I's jus' weird, is all. I's no' like there's another choice. I mean, the Varden's safer than wha's ou' 'ere."

"Surda is another choice, and it's safer for me," Murtagh retorted.

"Wha's so dangerous 'bou' the Varden for ya?" Marin asked.

"What's so dangerous about a group of rebels whom the king is more bent on destroying than he is on finding me?" Murtagh asked, laughing bitterly.

"I've been round dangerous groups afore," Marin said.

"Like that thief in Gil'ead?" Murtagh asked. The bitterness had carried over to his voice.

"Jamison?" Marin asked. "If ya don' play 'is game, 'e's dangerous, yeah."

"Is that how you live your life, by somebody else's rules?" Murtagh asked her.

"I play be 'ooever's rules are bes' t' play be a' the time," Marin replied. "'Ow do ya play?"

"I have my own rules," Murtagh said after a pause.

"Wha' rules?" Marin asked.

"You're too curious for you own good, do you know that?" Murtagh asked her. "Don't ask me to tell you anything that you won't want to hear. Figure it out yourself if you must."

"I will, Murtagh," she said.

The dark man looked at her, surprised that she'd just used his name, and said, "Good luck then, Marin. You'll need it."

She remained silent after that. She was now ruminating on her newest problem: she didn't want Murtagh to go, and she couldn't for the life of her understand why.

Marin opened her eyes to find that she'd been leaning against Cadoc's neck and looked up. The sun was rising. When she looked to her right, she saw that Eragon had taken to riding Snowfire at some point and was sleeping against the horse's neck. She supposed that he'd done it during her nap.

Murtagh glanced at her and said, "Can you guide both horses? I need to sleep. Just ride ahead of them, and they'll follow. If they stray, grab their reins." The dark man paused and said, "On second thought, if that happens, just wake one of us up."

Thankfully, no such incident occurred, and midmorning, the Urgals were far behind, and Eragon declared that if they weren't reasonably close to the Varden by noon, he would fly ahead with Arya, and Murtagh and Marin would be free to go where they wished. Marin wasn't sure whether she should hope for it to come to that or not. She decided to put the matter out of her mind and let fate take her where it would. That's what she'd always done, and she'd always managed.

Late in the morning, Eragon pointed out the terrifying fact that the Urgals were now less than a league behind them.

Marin turned and looked behind her. " 'Ow'd they do tha'? Wha' are they? Some kinda god-demon?"

"They're Urgals," Murtagh said. "I just don't know how they're so fast."

Eragon ignored them both and suggested slipping into a narrow valley, and Murtagh decided to give the idea a try, though he'd expressed little hope in its success.

Before the valley came a huge forest. The trees were taller than any that Marin had seen on their trip here, and something felt wrong about them. All in all, the girl hoped that they could get out of here as soon as was possible. Cadoc was panting, and they'd slowed them to a walk. It wasn't as though they could gallop through this place. The trees seemed to be against it. They also seemed to object to Saphira's presence, and she had to take Arya and leave them on their own.

When they finally reached the mouth of the valley, Marin was shocked to find that it was as wide as any that they'd encountered so far.

"I' looked so small," she mumbled weakly. Neither Eragon nor Murtagh said anything.

The blue rider simply turned to Murtagh and said, "The Varden are hidden at the end of this valley. If we hurry, we might get there before nightfall."

Marin smiled slightly. She was too tired to cheer. What she really wanted to do was sleep.

Murtagh, however, was less than thrilled by the news. "How am I going to get out of here? I don't see any valleys joining this one, and the Urgals are going to hem us in pretty soon. I need an escape route."

"'Ellgrin' an' ellfire, i' won' kill ya t' go t' the Varden. You're bringin' them a rider. They _'ave_ t' like ya," Marin muttered. Unfortunately, Murtagh heard her.

"You know nothing," he said, seething. "Just…just be quiet."

"I know nuttin'?" Marin asked. "I know nuttin'? Ya wanna why tha' is? Cause ya won' tell either o' us anything. Tha's why we don' ge' this."

Murtagh opened his mouth to retort, but Eragon cut him off.

"You two cannot start fighting now! We are between death and salvation, and you two are going to get along until we've reached salvation. And, Murtagh, this is a long valley. There _has_ to be an exit somewhere in here. Now, I'm going to fly with Saphira to watch the Urgals, and I'll tell you where you can leave. Watch Arya, both of you."

Marin nodded, biting back a teasing remark. Eragon had dirt against her, and now didn't seem like a good time for her to provoke him to use it.

"Be careful," Murtagh warned him. Saphira took off, and Marin and Murtagh made a point out of ignoring each other because neither felt up to resuming their argument.

Later on, Cadoc faltered suddenly, and Marin ended up having to wrap her legs around his neck to avoid being thrown.

Murtagh dismounted, pulled her off, and asked if she was alright.

"Yeah," she said. "'E jus' stepped in tha' 'ole o'er there is all."

Murtagh went to examine the hole, and Marin went to check on Cadoc's leg as she had once seen Eragon do with Snowfire. As she nervously felt up the beast's leg to check for broken bones, Murtagh swore about something. Before Marin could ask him what was wrong, Saphira settled down beside them. For some reason, Eragon didn't dismount.

Murtagh stood up and walked over to the sapphire dragon to ask, "What's wrong?"

"I made a mistake," Eragon admitted. "The Urgals have entered the valley."

Marin let go of Cadoc's leg and cursed. When the horse gave her a hurt look, she muttered, "I's no' ya. Nuttin's wrong with ya."

Eragon ignored her and continued. "I tried to confuse them, but I forgot one of the rules of magic, and it cost me a great deal."

Scowling, Murtagh jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "I just found some wolf tracks, but the footprints are as wide as both of my hands and an inch deep."

"Tha's wha' the 'ole was?" Marin asked.

Murtagh nodded grimly and continued. "There are animals around here that could be dangerous even to you, Saphira." He turned to the dragon and asked, "I know you can't enter the forest, but could you circle above me and the horses? That should keep the beasts away. Otherwise, there may only enough left of me to roast in a thimble and nothing left of Marin that could be seen."

The former streetrat decided to refrain from commenting on the jibe against her height—or lack thereof—and simply said, "Oh, haha."

"Humor, Murtagh?" Eragon asked.

"Only on the gallows," Murtagh sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I can't believe that the same Urgals have been following us this whole time. They would have to be birds to catch up with us."

"Saphira says that they're larger than any that we've seen," Eragon put in.

Murtagh cursed yet again, clenching the pommel of his sword. "That explains it! Saphira, if you're right, then those are Kull, elite of the Urgals. I should have guessed that the chieftain have been put in charge of them. They don't ride horses because they can't carry their weight—not one of them is under eight feet tall—and they can run for days without sleep and still be ready for battle. It can take five men to kill on. Kull never leave their caves except for war, so they must expect a great slaughter if they are out in such a force."

Marin whistled slowly.

"Can we stay ahead of them?" Eragon asked.

"Who knows?" Murtagh asked. "They're strong determined, and large in numbers. It's possible that we may have to face them. If that happens, I only hope that the Varden have men posted nearby who'll help us. Despite our skill and Saphira, we can't hold off Kull."

Marin decided not to say that it sounded as though they were all doomed to a horrible and bloody death.

_We're close t' the Varden. Jus' keep thinkin' tha'. You're no' screwed until you're caugh' or ya say you're screwed, so don' ge' caugh' or say you're screwed, _she thought, quoting one of Jamison's many sayings.

Eragon swayed and asked for bread. Murtagh gave him part of a loaf that was so stale that it probably could've been used to pave Dras Leona's streets, but Eragon ate it gratefully.

As he did this, Murtagh scanned the valley with a fervent, almost maniacal hope. Marin realized that he was looking for an escape route. How could he be thinking of that now, when they were between death and salvation, as Eragon had put it?

"There'll be one farther in," Eragon assured him.

"Of course," Murtagh said with forced optimism. "We must go."

"How is Arya?" Eragon asked.

Murtagh shrugged. "The fever's worse. She's been tossing and turning. What do you expect? Her strength is failing. You should fly her to the Varden before the poison does anymore damage."

"I won't leave you behind," Eragon insisted. "Not with the Urgals so near."

Murtagh shrugged again. "As you wish. But I'm warning you, she won't live if you stay with me."

"Luck's gotta give us sommat," Marin said weakly. She didn't believe, not really, but she decided that she might as well try to optimistic as neither Eragon nor Murtagh seemed up to the task.

Murtagh snorted, and Eragon said, "She's right. There's still hope. Help me save her. Consider it a life for a life—atonement for Torkenbrand's death."

Murtagh's face darkened instantly. "It's not a debt owed. You—." He stopped as a horn echoed through the dark forest. Marin ran for Cadoc with surprising speed. They had to leave now.

"I'll have more to say to you later," Murtagh told Eragon as he stomped towards the horses. He grabbed Snowfire's reins as he mounted Tornac, and the grey warhorse trotted after Cadoc, who had refused gallop despite Marin's urging.

They rode as fast as they could through the forest—which wasn't much more than a trot—while Murtagh looked over his shoulder occasionally to see how close the Kull were and Marin blatantly refused to look anywhere but ahead.

_No use scarin' yourself, girl,_ she told herself.

Suddenly, a loud whooshing sound and then a crash was heard behind them. Marin looked back and saw the Urgals scrambling as a rock fell from the sky.

"Saphira's doing that," Murtagh said, his voice full of awe.

Marin grinned. "Luck's with us, I guess."

"Stop relying on luck," Murtagh warned her.

"I don'," Marin said. "I's jus' an optimism thing."

Night fell, and the air became colder. Marin moved closer to Cadoc in an attempt to find warmth. She stopped looking at the path and just followed Murtagh, who had passed her by about an hour ago, after she saw night-creatures beginning to creep out of their hiding places.

As it grew darker, Marin heard Murtagh dismount from Tornac.

"Get off the horses. They're ready to drop, and we're going to have to run with them from now on," he told her.

Marin reluctantly pulled herself out of the saddle and stretched her legs. She led Cadoc closer to Murtagh, and he said, "Put him in front of you, and run after him."

She barely had time to nod before Murtagh slapped all three horses dashed off. Marin sprinted, just managing to catch up.

_Jus' think o' wha's behind ya,_ she told herself. _Ya can' die. No' now. Ya've been chased afore. Don' get caugh' this time. Don' ge' caugh' this time. Don' ge' caugh' this time._ She repeated that mantra in her head until she heard the sound of trees crashing down. The Kull were going to hack their way through the forest to get to them now, and Saphira couldn't drop rocks on them anymore.

She felt the blood rush from her head to her limbs as she sped up, running ahead of the horses and reaching for someone's reins.

"Slow down," Murtagh shouted through gasps of air. If all of her air hadn't been dedicated to running, she'd have screamed in frustration. How could he still talk? How could he not be scared?

"You'll drop when you stop if you don't slow down!" Murtagh growled. "The horses are faster than you. Push them. Don't pull them."

When Marin finally slowed down, letting her horse get in front of her, she felt her side and her legs cramp up, and she brushed the sweat out of her eyes.

_You're no' tired. You're no' tired. You're no' tired. Lookie, girl, ya 'ad a nap jus' las' nigh'. You're no' tired. I's all in your 'ead. Ya can run. Now don' ge' caugh'. You'll die if ya ge' caugh', so don' get caugh'. _

Somehow, her brain convinced her limbs that this was true.

When they rushed out of the forest and onto the banks of the Beartooth River, Saphira and Eragon were waiting for them. The rider leapt off the dragon and matched their pace.

Murtagh said, "I saw you dropping rocks with Saphira—ambitious. Have the Kull stopped or turned back?"

Marin personally thought that it was ambitious of him to attempt to talk at the moment. She was just focusing on her mantra and ignoring her exhaustion.

_Leas' ya ain' the 'orse. Now don' ge' caugh'. Don' ge' caugh'…_

Over her thoughts, Marin heard Eragon yell, "They're still behind us, but we're almost to the head of the valley. How's Arya?"

"She hasn't died," Murtagh gasped. "Is there a valley or a gorge ahead that I can leave through."

_Don' ge' caugh'. Don' ge' caugh'…'Ellgrin' an' ellfire, those things're behind us, an' all 'e can think o' is escapin', _Marin thought.  
Eragon hesitated before saying, "It's dark."

'_E's gonna blow, _Marin thought as she realized that Eragon hadn't spotted Murtagh's precious escape route.

"So I might have missed something, but…no."

And then Murtagh blew, swearing explosively, and stopping the horses.

"Are you saying that the only place I can go is the Varden?" he demanded.

"Yes, but keep running. The Urgals are almost upon us," Eragon said.

"Listen t' 'im," Marin panted, clutching the stitch in her side and forcing the air through her lungs. She had to force herself to stay standing. You never sat after you ran. That was a rule. Just stay standing and keep breathing. Oh gods, she was so tired. How could she start running again? How could Murtagh have made them stop? They were going to get killed now, and it would be his and his stupid secret's fault. "I don' wanna ge' kiled, and I don' think ya do either," she screamed.

"No!" Murtagh shouted, ignoring Marin. "I warned you that I wouldn't go to the Varden, but you went ahead and trapped between the hammer and anvil! You're the one with the elf's memories."

"I'd like the anvil be'er," Marin muttered. Murtagh ignored her. He only seemed to hear what Eragon was saying, and he was only getting one message out of it.

"All I knew was where we had to go, not what lay in between. Don't blame me for choosing to come," Eragon shouted in frustration.

Murtagh hissed and turned away from them both.

"What's your quarrel with the Varden? It can't be so terrible that you must keep it hidden even now. Would you rather fight Kull than reveal it? How many times will go through this before you trust us?"

"Murtagh, this is ridiculous," Marin said. "We need t' move. Wha'ver the Varden'll do t' ya can' be worse than wha' the Kull'll do t' us if ya don' move now!"

Murtagh started laughing bitterly. "Do you know nothing?"

Marin almost screamed in frustration. They were just repeating their previous argument. "'Bou' ya? I know tha' you're moody, stubborn, overly smart, good a' anything 'cep' relatin' to people, and funny when ya wanna be bu' mos'ly serious, and I know tha' cause I've traveled with ya. I dunno why ya don' wanna go t' the Varden, and tha's cause ya won' tell me."

Murtagh turned his head slightly so that he could see her out of the corner of his eye. "You wouldn't understand," he insisted, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. He was losing control, and that was unnerving. The Murtagh that Marin knew never lost control. Eragon lost control. Eragon threatened to leave her, but Murtagh didn't do that. He just ignored her until he could forgive her. He was cold. He didn't stop them when they were on the brink of death for some stupid secret. What was wrong with him?  
"Wouldn' understand?" she demanded. "Murtagh, look a' wha' I've done. Mayhap killin's worse than wha' I've done, bu' we've seen ya kill, and i' was for our own good anyway. Wha' can ya 'ave done tha's worse than tha'?"

"I already told you that I haven't done anything to deserve this," he said. He wasn't yelling anymore. His voice was low and bitter. His control was returning, and Marin knew that he would win any argument with her or Eragon if he had his control.

"Then wha' is i' 'bou' ya tha's so bloody terrible tha' ya can' tell us?" Marin asked.

"You wouldn't understand," Murtagh whispered, his eyes moving away from her face and her accusing hazel eyes. His breathing was ragged, and a vein bulged in his neck. He was holding back as he had been all along, and Marin realized that fighting him would only make him hold back more. Perhaps persuasion would work?

"Ya already said tha'," Marin said, coming closer to him. "Look a' me, Murtagh." He didn't move an inch. "I said, 'Look a' me.'" When Murtagh still didn't move, Marin slid in front of him and cupped his face with her hands in an attempt to force him to look at her. Still he fought her, his gaze looking upward instead of down at the girl in front of him.

"Look a' me," she begged. "Please. Murtagh." At the sound of his name, he sighed and looked down at her, his dark eyes full of pain and fear. Her heart began to beat faster than ever. It was like it was pounding in time with the falling trees as the Kull cleared the forest. The monsters were Galbatorix's watch, and they were going to a lot more than just stick her in a pit for a few days. If she and her companions got caught, they'd be dead. She had to convince him to move if they were going to survive. And she could be convincing. Of course she could.

"We wanna understand," she said between pants. "We both wanna understand. Eragon and I, we really do. Bu' ya won' tell us anything, and if ya don', we're gonna die 'ere cause ya think tha' we can' understand wha's so bad 'bou' ya. Ya've done too much for us. We can' leave ya 'ere t' die. Now tell us wha's botherin' ya. We can' 'ave surprises a' the Varden."

Murtagh inhaled and exhaled sharply, pulling her hands away from his face and onto her chest. Her heart was beating even faster than before, and for some reason, Marin knew that it wasn't only because of their imminent deaths. Even at this angle, even though Murtagh was covered in layers of grime and sweat and was thoroughly exhausted, there was a hint of nobility in the raise of his head, a hint of pride beneath that hunted look that never completely left his face, and a trace of roguish handsomeness. Marin felt his warm heartbeat increase under his palm and his pants became shallower.

"You have the right to know," he whispered, his gaze flicking from Marin to Eragon and back again. "I…I am the son of Morzan, first and last of the Foresworn."

Yes, it finally came. The revelation. Woot! Next chapter's the reactions and then the mind reading (hopefully). Fun! Well, hopefully it'll be fun. Anyway, here are the review responses. And thanks to MysticLegend11 for beta-ing this.

Mean Titan: That's why my mom won't acknowledge.

Queen of the Mary Sue: Thanks. I hope that this came soon enough for you.

Stripysockz: I'm glad that it was surprising. I just wanted to have that randomly happen, and so it did. I hope that you liked the explosive scene. I'm glad that you support me in my desire for a pug named Pugsley. I'm glad that you thought that that scene was cute. I couldn't resist the arrow thing. I just can't take anything seriously. At least not completely.

Lady-Mystique: No, Eragon is not a good boy. I'm glad that you liked that random scene. And, yes, the arrow thing was meant to be funny. I just can't take anything completely seriously.

MysticLegend11: I've responded to pretty much most of that review already. Thanks for the edit again.

Eragonharrypotterfan: I'm glad that you liked it. You're right about Eragon. There's no way that he could have gauged that situation without help from his much more intelligent dragon. Eragon will get better with Marin. I think he will, at least.

CaramelBoost: Thanks for the pug support. I see what you're staying about Eragon. It just seemed like something that Eragon would do. I'm glad that you like it.

AppaAndMomoForever: I'm not touching him. side step side step side step


	17. Trapped by Word and Stone

Trapped by Word and Stone

Disclaimer: I just own Marin. I know, I know, you all thought that I was Christopher Paolini despite the differences in our writing styles and the fact that I'm rewriting part of Eragon. P.S. That was sarcastic. I know that that tone doesn't really translate into writing.

Marin stumbled backwards, her head reeling. She felt Murtagh reach out to grab her wrist and pull her towards him desperately as though she would disappear or run if he let her go. As he held her to his chest, she was only vaguely aware of his breath in her hair and his arms around her waist.

Morzan's son. He was Morzan's son. The son of the man who had doomed or saved Den-ner. The son of the man whose name haunted the bards' horror stories. The son of the man who had put that reclusive maggot of a king on the throne. The son of the man who was the enemy of Eragon and everything that she was now being forced to support.

But he couldn't be. It was impossible. Murtagh wasn't a monster. She'd met monsters before, and he wasn't one. A monster would have killed her or raped her the moment he'd caught her stealing. A monster wouldn't have saved Eragon from those cursed beasts called the Ra'zac.

But he sounded so much like him. He even looked like him. And just as Morzan had brought some bar slut to the Foresworn, Murtagh had pulled her off her path to Belatona and put on this hellish journey to the Varden.

But he wasn't a monster. She wouldn't care about a monster. Would she?

"You are his heir?" Eragon's voice cut through her daze.

Murtagh reached under her chin forcing her to meet his eyes. She didn't resist. She just stared at him blankly. His revelation was still sinking in.

"I didn't choose this," he swore, desperation distorting his features and that hunted-wolf look returning as he let go of Marin.

Marin barely had time to think as Murtagh began to tear at his clothes. Her hazel eyes widened. What was he doing?

Her eyes widened even more as his shirt and tunic came off, and she instantly berated herself for staring. She'd seen men without their shirts before. It wasn't as though it was new to her. Just because Murtagh had a better body than most men that she'd seen didn't make it alright for to gape like some green country maid.

"Look," he shouted, turning his back.

Marin's eyes—if possible—widened even more. A long scar stretched from Murtagh's right shoulder to his left hip. How he had gotten it?

"See that?" Morzan demanded bitterly.

"Yeah," Marin replied numbly as she could think of nothing better to say.

"I was only three when I got it. During one of his many drunken rages, Morzan threw his sword at me as I ran by. My back was laid open by the very sword you now carry—the only thing that I expected to receive as inheritance, until Brom stole it from my father's corpse. I was lucky, I suppose—there was a healer nearby who kept me from dying. You must understand, I don't love the Empire or the king. I have no allegiance to them, nor do I mean you any harm," Murtagh continued frantically, his chest rising as his breathing became quicker and quicker.

Overwhelming pity swamped over Marin. Here his own father had betrayed him when her own had only slapped her even when she ran wild or broke things just to stir up trouble or disobeyed him or her grandmother. And this man had gotten drunk and tried to kill his innocent child just because he'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And then Murtagh lost the only thing that that man could have given him because of an enemy that Morzan had made through his own cruelty.

Instinctively, she stepped towards him again and hugged him, her breath ragged and panicking.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn' 'ave made ya tell us."

"No," Murtagh said, pushing her back and gripping her shoulders. "You…you both needed to know." He let go of her shoulders, and Marin looked back at Eragon.

Marin let out a sigh of relief when Eragon's hand slowly moved from Zar'roc's pommel. "Then your father," he began, his voice faltering, "was killed by…"

"Yes, Brom," Murtagh said. He pulled his tunic back on, seeming detached from the situation into which he'd been so hopelessly absorbed only second ago.

A horn rang out in the distance, and Marin was reminded of the ever-approaching Kull.

"Come run with me," Eragon cried to Marin's relief. No use standing here. They could work this all out later.

Murtagh seemed to have gotten back on track now that he secret was revealed. He grabbed the horses' reins and pulled them along while the elf bounced in Snowfire's saddle. Marin forced her legs to keep running as she followed despite the fact that she was ready to drop.

_A' leas' ya go' t' res'. Focus on tha'. No, tha's no' righ'. Focus on those terrible beasties behind ya. _

As image of Kull hacking her into pieces, eating her flesh, and grinding her bones into dust flashed through her mind, Marin found the strength to continue sprinting madly. Gods damn her to death if she let them catch her, and by those gods, she wasn't going to let them.

Saphira continued to run beside them, crashing through the riverbed. She seemed unwilling to leave them alone with Murtagh, and Marin somehow found it in her to be angry, this sapphire dragon who'd been her greatest defender throughout the entire journey. How could she still distrust Murtagh after all that he'd done for them and after all that his father had done to him? If he'd been with the Empire, wouldn't he have just left Eragon in Gil'ead?

_Wouldn' 'e? _Marin thought earnestly. Of course he wouldn't have saved Eragon if he'd meant them harm. Murtagh wasn't going to betray them. Marin couldn't stand that. She'd actually come to trust him and Eragon, and she couldn't break it now. She needed to be able to trust somebody, and people to trust didn't come into her life too often. If she'd been wrong about him…

"Your tale is hard to believe," Eragon said, cutting through her thoughts. His ability to talk and run continued to infuriate Marin. "How do I know you aren't lying?"

"Why would I lie?" Murtagh asked. Of course he wouldn't. There was no profit in lying to them now even if he was a traitor.

"Jus' keep with tha' though'," Marin muttered to herself.

"You could be—"

Murtagh interrupted him quickly. "I can't prove anything to you now. Keep your doubts until we reach the Varden. They'll recognize me quickly enough." The sound of the Kull crashing towards them enhanced the wisdom behind his words.

"I must know," Eragon pressed. "Do you serve the Empire?"

"No. And if I did, what would I accomplish by traveling wit you? If I were trying to capture you, I would have left you long ago in prison." Murtagh stumbled as he jumped over a fallen log.

"You could be leading the Urgals to the Varden," Eragon suggested.

"Then why am I still with you?" Murtagh asked, frustration creeping into his voice. "I know where the Varden are now. What reason could I have for delivering myself to them? If I were going to attack them, I'd turn around and join the Urgals."

"Maybe you're an assassin," Eragon stated flatly.

"Maybe. You can't really know, can you?"

Marin personally thought that this was a very poor defense, but she was too tired to think of a good one for him if he couldn't himself.

She screamed as a branch whipped across her face. Or at least she tried to. It just came out as a wordless, panicked gasp.

Saphira cleared the way between two trees just up ahead of them, and Marin had never been more grateful for her presence, especially with the sounds of hundreds of huge feet pounding behind them.

Up ahead, Murtagh left the forest and pulled the horses to a stop.

"Whachoo doin'?" Marin rasped before she managed to catch up with him and Eragon. They were standing on a pebble beach in front of a huge lake that filled the entire valley and blocked their way. Their only path was a thin strip of land that wrapped around the lake.

"Do we go to the falls?" Murtagh asked. Marin's eyes widened at the question. How were they supposed to take those paths without falling in and drowning? Apparently they were going to do just that.

"Yes," Eragon said, taking the lead and guiding them down the left side of the lake. Marin almost tripped slid on the pebbles several times. One time, Murtagh had to grab her and pull her back from the edge of the lake. Saphira was in a worse position than any of them; she had to walk with two feet in the water.

When they were halfway to the waterfall, Murtagh gave the dreaded cry. "Urgals!"

Marin turned around quickly, and her heart sank immediately. The Urgals were filing out of the forest rapidly, covering the distance between them with rapid speed. From this distance, she couldn't help but notice that they were three heads taller, twice as wide, and probably three men stronger. Their blood-carved faces and husk-like teeth looked like they came from a horrific nightmare. She shivered as she imagined their knives, bludgeons and spears hack through her vulnerable body. When they reached the lake, the horde split, trapping them.

"Run," Murtagh shouted, drawing his sword. Marin didn't need telling twice. She began to sprint once again, Gods damn slime, and strung her bow as she ran. She had a feeling that she was going to need it.

"No," Eragon shouted suddenly. Marin looked to her left and saw Saphira taking off in the direction of the Kull.

Marin almost stopped to watch the magnificent dragon dive at the beasts and steal one of them from the group, maiming him and then dropping him into the lake, but she kept running as Eragon drew Zar'roc.

The Kull kept running with inhuman speed, closing in on them from both sides. Marin desperately tried to run faster, but when she stumbled, her legs jellylike and her lungs bursting, she realized that she just couldn't even if she wanted to. Fear clawed at her insides as her imagination pumped adrenaline through her veins.

After hearing a sound of splashing water, Marin turned to see Saphira diving into the lake and then shooting out of the water and jerking a spear away from one of the Kull. The others attacked her, forcing her back. Still, she surged forward, keeping them at bay, screaming as blood splattered her scales. The other string continued to the edge of the falls.

Eragon crashed forward, and Murtagh grabbed his arm, pulling him back up. Marin managed to catch up with them both, and all three of them urged the horses forward. The Kull were gaining on them quickly.

They were almost at the falls now, and it sounded like thousands of rocks being dropped from the sky into the water. As it splashed up in their faces, Marin spat out all the excess water, and they continued towards the widening beach.

Saphira's roar cut through the air, and all three of the humans turned to see a Kull jab her in the side with his spear. The sapphire dragon was forced to withdrawal and the Kull streamed past her.

"What do we do now?" Murtagh demanded.

"I don't know. Let me think," Eragon shouted. His eyes scanned the ground, and he picked up a rock and pounded on the side of the cliff behind the falls, shouting, "Aí varden abr Shur'tugalar gata vanta."

Nothing happened.

"Wha's wrong?" Marin asked nervously. Oh, gods, they were trapped.

She grabbed another rock and started pounding on the falls next to Eragon trying to mimic his words. It didn't work.

"We're trap—" Eragon began to say just before Saphira flew out of the lake once again, spraying them with icy cold water and landing on the beach to prepare to fight.

Marin could hear the horses trying bolt behind them and privately wondered if she should join the mangy things herself. They stopped rearing suddenly, and Marin turned around just in time to see Murtagh throw his sword forward, impaling the lead Kull in the chest.

Murtagh dashed forward and grabbed his sword before the other monsters could react.

Marin notched an arrow, trying to remember all the things that Murtagh had told her during her archery lessons.

_Oh yeah, don' 'esitate, _she remembered as one of the Kull charged forward directly towards her. She released the arrow, and it caught him at the base of his neck. He fell forward just as Eragon shouted, "Jierda. Theirra kalfís."

About twenty Kull screamed and fell forward into the lake. Marin shot another arrow, catching another beast in the stomach and causing him to double over in pain.

Then she heard something brush past her head, and Murtagh pulled her down.

"Wha—" she began.  
"Arrows," Murtagh replied. He turned to Eragon and asked, "What now? We can't stay here."

Saphira snarled as an arrow pierced one of her wings, and Eragon said, "I don't know? This is where we're supposed to be."

"Why don't you ask the elf to make sure?" Murtagh demanded. He dropped his sword and retrieved his bow, sending yet another Urgal into the lake.

"Now?" Eragon asked, his voice adopting an almost whiny tone. "She's barely alive! How is she going to find the energy to say anything?"

"Eragon, we're gonna ge' killed o'er 'ere," Marin put in. "She's 'eld 'ou' this far. One word can' kill 'er."

"You'd better think of something," Murtagh added. "We can't stave off an entire army."

Saphira looked at Eragon, and a moment later the boy said, "The Varden are on the other side of the lake. We have to go through the waterfall."

Marin had no idea how they were going to manage that, and apparently Murtagh didn't either as he said, "We'll never get the horses through there, even if we can hold our own footing."

"I'll convince them to follow us, and Saphira can carry Arya," Eragon snapped.

Marin looked to her left, and the only thing that she could see were the yellow eyes of the approaching Kull.

"Ya know wha'?" she asked. "I'd rather drown than be eaten."

And before either male could say anything, she dove into the waterfall. The water plummeted around her, crushing her against the bottom, her lungs burned as she held her breath, and her limbs nearly collapsed as she tried to swim against it. Then she remembered what her father had told her when he'd first taught her to swim.

_Ya can' figh' the wa'er, so don'. Jus' go with i'. _

She let herself sink to the bottom and groped around until she felt a rock. She grabbed it and pulled herself along the bottom until the pounding on her back ceased, and then she pushed up again, her lungs burning, her ears ringing, and her head aching. She leaned her head back and lay their floating as she gasped for air. When she looked up again, she saw the horses and Murtagh jump in.

She dove back under to avoid the deluge of the arrows and made her way towards the other side of the lake. Every breath she took was short, and a few arrows barely missed her hair as they whizzed over her head. The fact that she was still clutching her bow didn't impede her progress. Actually, it helped her fatigued arms continue stroking.

She felt someone's strong strokes pushing her off course, and she looked to the side to see Murtagh swimming beside her. Seeing the edge of the cliff, she stopped swimming and bobbed up to the surface. She had difficulty even finding a place to grip on the ledge, and her arms gave out before she'd even pulled her torso out of the water. Before she hit the water again, she felt a hand the back of the tunic and another coil around her leg before she was hauled out of the water like a sack of apples.

No sooner had her "rescuer" thrown her onto the ground when she felt an arm snake around her waist, pulling her back against someone's chest, and a knife-blade at her throat. She wanted desperately to shiver against him or to pant, but the knife-blade effectively curbed both impulses.

Murtagh pulled himself out of the water, and he was grabbed by a tall, bald man as soon as he stood.

"Thank the gods that you can swim," he mumbled as he looked down at her.

Arrows shot past them, impaling the Kull when they found their marks. Marin didn't remember being so incredibly relieved to see dead bodies. In fact, she would have laughed if it weren't for the knife at her throat.

Just then, two people's heads bobbed up. They were Eragon and a large bearded man. When Eragon didn't even attempt to pull himself onto the beach, the man pulled him out and dropped him onto his side, where he lay shivering and gasping.

"Do ya 'ave t' grip me like tha'?" Marin asked her captor as she tried to look up into his face.

A boot connected with her side, and she yelped in pain. When she looked she saw Murtagh's captor glaring at her coldly.

"Yes, he does, and on my orders as well. And as I will be the one searching your mind—and don't doubt that I can make it unpleasant—you'd best let him follow my orders, guttersnipe," the bald man snapped.

"He's a Rider," Murtagh shouted, pointing at Eragon. "Could you show us a little bit more respect? And you can't tell me that she looks threatening."

"When she was carrying this?" the man asked, picking up the bow that now lay at Marin's feet.

She giggled nervously her friend's captor.

_Be'er no' mess with 'im, _she decided as she briefly met his cold black eyes. She broke the connection almost immediately and turned away to see a stocky, armored man no taller than four feet wringing water out of his long braided beard.

_An' I though' I was shor', _she observed.

"Barzûl, but I wish I could join them," the dwarf said as he stared longingly at the fighting. Despite his height, Marin didn't doubt that he could do so. He looked just as strong as any of the men directly in her line of vision, if not stronger, and an axe that she would hate to mess with hung from his belt.

Marin's gaze shifted back to Eragon in time see him draw Zar'roc and make his way towards them.

Murtagh's captor suddenly shouted, "Stop! If you use magic, I'll kill your lovely friend here, who was so kind as to mention you're a Rider. Don't think that I won't know if you're drawing upon it. You can't hide anything from me."  
Something about the way he said it made Marin's blood turn cold. There were things about her that she didn't want anyone here to know, especially not him. Sure, this was a place known for sheltering criminals, and she wasn't dangerous, but she didn't know what he'd do with such knowledge. Well, she'd find out soon enough.

Eragon opened his mouth, and the man pressed his dagger harder against Murtagh's throat, drawing a thin line of blood. "None of that! If you say or do anything I don't tell you to, he will die. Now, everyone inside."

He backed away pulling Murtagh with him and keeping his eyes on Eragon as he moved forward. Marin's guard lifted her to her feet and half-dragged through the mountain's stone doors.

She cringed as they shut behind her, leaving not even a seam in the wall behind. She was trapped, and the thought made her stomach churn.

"This way," the bald man snapped

_Is tha' 'is favorite way o' speakin' or sommat,_ Marin thought as the man continued to lead Murtagh and the rest of them through an arched doorway.

Marin's captor barely glanced at her as he followed the man. His eyes stayed focused on Eragon and Saphira. As she glanced around, she realized that all of the men were gaping at those two. She didn't blame them. She remembered how it had felt to see Saphira, a creature straight out of legend, living and breathing right in front of her.

She heard the sounds of hoofbeats beside her, and she looked in that direction to see Tornac, Snowfire, and Cadoc being led away from them into a different tunnel. They all continued down a narrow corridor until they finally entered a white marble room large enough for Saphira to move freely.

The door slammed shut, and there was the sound of it being bolted. Marin cringed again. Now there was really no way out.

"There's an injured—" Eragon began, but the bald man cut him off with a sharp gesture. Marin supposed that he was a really good rebel since he refused to listen to anyone but himself. She also wished that he could be less of a good rebel.

"Do not speak! It must wait until you have been tested."

"Well, hones'ly, if ya can tell if 'e's gonna use magic afore 'e uses i', wha's i' ma'er if 'e talks? I mean, 'e migh' 'ave sommat importan' t' say," Marin spook up.

The bald man fixed that cold glare on her once again, and the girl cursed herself for talking back.

_I really should' 'ave done tha', _Marin thought. _I really, really shouldn' 'ave done tha'. Now 'e's gonna make i' 'ell for me. Tha's real grea'. Smar' too. I'm screwed. _

"Remove your weapons and slide them to me," the bald man whispered silkily.

Another dwarf unbuckled Murtagh's sword and slid it across the floor to him. Eragon then put then down Zar'roc, his eyes focusing nervously on the bald man the entire time, and then he placed his bow and quiver down beside them. However, when Marin's hand went to her belt to unbuckle her dagger, the man put up his hand and shouted, "Don't move. I'm going to search you. Congratulations, girl. You're getting your mind read first."

He stepped forward and dragged her away from her captor. His hands moved the entire length of her body, squeezing and grabbing all the way. She bit her lip and glared at the ground as he finished his rough handling. She only looked up when she heard the sound of her dagger being thrown into the pile of the other weapons.

"Now," the man hissed into her ear, "remove all the defenses from around your mind and prepare to let me inspect your thoughts and memories. If you try to hide anything from me, I will take what I want by force…which would drive you mad. If you don't submit, your non-rider companion will be killed."

"I don' 'ave any defenses," Marin muttered, her eyes still focusing on the ground. He stood, his arm still around her waist, and then threw her onto the ground. She curled instinctively, her arms moving over her head to shield it from any blows. He reminded her of too many of her customers who had gotten violent with her, and she was convinced that any moment he was going attack.

The man smirked at her state, and the other soldiers exchanged worried glances. They seemed reluctant to let him hurt a rider's companion, especially if he could end up being their friend.

"Cooperate, and I won't hurt you," the man said smoothly.

"There isn't time," Eragon suddenly protested.

"Silence," the man roared. "Until you are all examined, your words are meaningless."

"But she's dying," Eragon retorted, jabbing his finger in Arya's direction.

"It will have to wait! No on will leave this room until we have discovered the truth of the matter. Unless you wish—"

"Are you blind, Egraz Carn? Can't you see that that's an elf on the dragon? We cannot keep her here if she's in danger. Ajihad and the king will have our heads if she's allowed to die!" Eragon's dwarfed rescuer shouted.

The man's eyes flashed in anger before he said, "Of course, Orik, wouldn't want that to happen" He snapped his fingers and pointed at Arya. "Remove her from the dragon." Two human warriors crept towards Saphira, their hands clutching their drawn swords tightly and their eyes never leaving her face.

"Quickly, quickly," the bald man snapped.

The men unstrapped Arya from the saddle and lowered the elf onto the floor. One man's eyes lit up in recognition, and he shouted, "It's the dragon-egg courier, Arya."

"What?" the bald man shouted. Orik's eyes widened in astonishment and the bald man fixed Eragon with a glare, seemingly his favorite expression, and said flatly, "You have much explaining to do."

To his credit, Eragon returned the piercing gaze and said just as flatly, "She was poisoned with the Skilna Bragh while in prison. Only Tunivor's Nector can save her now."

An unreadable expression crossed the bald man's face as he stood there with his lips twitching. "Very well. Take her to the healers, and tell them what she needs. Guard her until the ceremony is completed. I will have new orders for you by then." The two warriors nodded curtly and carried Arya out of the room. Eragon's gaze followed her longingly, and Marin almost snorted as she unrolled herself and moved her arms away from her head. Then bald man turned to her, and Marin immediately regretted."Enough of this, we have wasted too much time already. Prepare to be examined."

He crossed over to her, pulled her up so that her back was facing his chest, and put his hand on her forehead.

Marin inhaled sharply just as a clawing hand forced itself into her mind.

Well, I hoped that you all liked it. Once again, I think my beta. Okay, next chapter is the mind reading and more. It just didn't fit in this chapter. Well, actually, this chapter got too long. It's over fifteen pages on word.

CelticPuzzleRangerStranger: Yes, I can. LOL. Well, here's the update.

Stripysockz: Aw. Thanks. I tried to make it good. And Marin does know who Morzan is because she heard stories from bards and such.

Three Moons: Well, I hope that you liked how I did this, and I'm glad that you like this.

Prettybella: Thanks. I'm glad that you like it that much. Well, I hope that you liked this chapter.

CaramelBoost: I guess that it was, but it was sorta meant to be that way. Well, I'm glad that you liked it. I hope that you liked this chapter.

Jackysgal: Thanks.

Queen of the Mary Sue: Wow. Thanks. I tried to make it good. I'm glad that you liked it.

Eragonharrypotterfan: That's sorta how it is. I have a general idea of what I want to happen in the whole story, and then I plan each chapter as I write it. I'm a make-it-up-as-I-go-along person.

Dragonflame-05: Well, it was a good scene in the book. shifty eyes LOL. I hope that you liked this chapter by the way.

MysticLegend11: Yes, we already discussed that it was because I was very out of it and I didn't realize that there was an attachment. Anyway, Marin knows what Morzan looks like because she saw him in the Den-ner dreams. I'm glad that you liked that last chapter, and I'm glad that you liked this one better.


	18. Past, Pleasure, Pain

Past, Pain, Pleasure

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Ya'll knew know? that. On with the story.

The probe dug deeper into her mind. It rushed further and further in until it came to the earliest memories of her childhood. It skimmed through them and only paused to take in her parent's names: Sorin and Dina. Finally, it found something that interested it.

"_Marin, wha' 'ave I tol' ya 'bou' runnin' from your grandma?" Sorin asked. _

_The eight-year-old Marin jumped and turned around at the sound of her father's enraged voice. _

"_Um, I don' remember," she lied. There was no way in hell she was getting out of this one, but why not try?_

"_Ya do remember," her father sighed, his shoulders drooping. "You're no' t' run away from your grandma cause she can' catch ya. I have work t' do, and I can' go runnin' af'er ya every time ya bol'. An' wha' if ya go' los' or someone took ya?"_

"_I know the city," Marin mumbled, staring down at the ground. He was right as always. She knew that her grandmother's heart was weak and that she shouldn't run. She knew how big Dras Leona was, and she knew how many children were taken everyday. She knew that her father had to work hard to keep his store running and to keep them fed. She knew a lot of things; she just forgot most of them. _

"_No' tha' well. No' all o' i'," her father said gravely, putting his hands on her shoulders. That was another thing about his scolding. He never yelled. _

"_I'm sorry," Marin finally said. "I shouldn' 'ave done i'. I dunno why I did."_

"_I know why," Sorin said. _

_Marin finally met his eyes. "Ya do?" _

"_I do." Sorin nodded. "I do. You're bored, and you're res'less, and you're causin' trouble for your poor grandma 'oo loves ya." _

"_Woul' i' 'ave been easier if me ma 'ad stayed?" Marin asked abruptly. That trump card was always an effective one to play. When Sorin thought that she wished that Dina was still around, it lessened her chances of being punished. _

"_Mayhap i' would've," Sorin said. "She wasn' real motherly."  
"Did she love me?" Marin asked._

"_I think so," Sorin replied. "She said tha' she was protectin' ya from sommat when she brough' ya 'ere. She'd stayed 'ere for 'bou' three months when I was with 'er. Then she lef' for 'bou' eigh' months and came back ready t' 'ave ya. She traveled a lo'. She tol' me tha' much. She'd been travelin' away from 'ome when she'd me' me, and she'd been travelin' away from 'ome for 'bou' three months afore she came back."_

"_Where'd she live?" Marin asked. She was beginning to be genuinely curious. As a rule, she didn't think about a mother who hadn't wanted her. It just didn't seem sensible to her. It wasn't as though it was strange. It just happened sometimes. Besides, her father and her grandmother were good to her. Why did she need Dina? Still, sometimes she would get lonely and want to know more about her. _

"_I dunno," Sorin replied. "Now lookie 'ere. You're distractin' me."_

_Marin sighed. Her plan had been foiled. _

"_Ya need sommat t' occupy ya tha' won' take ya outta the 'ouse or runnin' 'round the streets. So for a month you're no' gonna go ou' and I'm gonna teach ya t' read," Sorin declared. _

And with the end of the discussion of her mother, the probe seemed to lose interest in that particular memory. It continued to skim the surface, passing over uninteresting memories until it came to the one of her father's death.

"_Marin, wake up," Sorin shouted into her ear. _

"_Wha'?" she asked. _

"_Someone broke in," her father explained. "Ge' up now. You've gotta 'ide. If we're lucky, they won' know you're 'ere. I'm gonna try an' stop 'em, an' you're gonna 'ide in this close', see?"_

"_Why can' ya 'ide?" Marin asked. _

"_They saw me. They know I'm 'ere, and they're no' gonna jus' lemme go. They can' 'ave a witness runnin' round. They'll 'ang for this if they're caugh'," Sorin explained. _

"_They won' kill ya, will they?" Marin asked. _

_Sorin looked down at her. _

"_I won' le' 'em," he promised. _

_As she looked up at him, Marin doubted her father for the first time in her life. Still, she did as she was told. Now wasn't the time to disobey him. _

It was as though the probe knew what was going to happen next. It plunged deeper into the memory, and Marin was thrust into her eleven year old body. She felt everything that she felt then.

_Sweat from the summer's stifling heat and her growing apprehension trickled down her body. __She__ was panting. __She__ stared up at the ceiling of the closet and then at the walls, forcing herself to look anywhere but the door. __She__ knew that if she looked, she'd bolt. __She__ couldn't just sit there and wait for something to happen. __She__ had never been very good at that. Going with the flow was one thing, __but standing around when nothing was happening was even worse._

_Then, as though the gods had decided to grant her wish, something happened. _

"_Cummon, Sorin," an overly friendly voice said. "Show us whachoo go' up 'ere. Anything else?"_

"_No," Sorin replied. _

"_There wasn' much money lyin' round down there, was there?" another voice asked. _

"_We 'eard ya go' sommat from tha' woman o' yours. Ya know, your girl's ma. Anyway, where's the girl?" the first thief asked. _

_Marin's heart sank. Her mother hadn't left them anything of value. And now the thieves wanted her. Something told her that she needed to get out- that if they saw her, everything would be alright. She pushed the door, but it wouldn't budge. She pushed harder, but nothing happened. Her heart sank even lower when she realized that she was locked in. _

"_She's ou'," Sorin answered without a pause. The small beam of light from the room was blocked when her father stood in front of the door. _

"_Give us all ya go', and we'll believe tha'," a third voice said. This one was a female. _

_Marin exhaled in relief. They wouldn't kill him. It would be alright. _

"_Tha's i'," Sorin said. _

"_Mm, looks good," the second thief said. _

"_Alrigh' then, well…" Sorin's choked suddenly, and Marin pushed against the door. She had to get out of there. She had to get to her father. Maybe he was still alive. Maybe she could get him to a healer. Yes, if she could only get to a healer, everything would be fine again. _

"_Shame," the killer said. _

"_Can' 'ave witnesses," the first added dispassionately. _

"_Cummon," the third hissed. "We gotta ge' outta 'ere for the lil bra' comes back."_

The probe seemed to tire of watching Marin sob and throw her little body against the closet door, so heleft that memory and looked for something else. It made her relive every single day of hunger until the day she'd finally snapped and stolen somebody's purse. After it was done with those days, it took particular pleasure in making her relive her first night in the prisoners' pit.

"'_Ey, bitch, tha's me spo'. 'Sides, I gotta be in 'ere longer than ya gotta be in 'ere. So scram, ya lil slu'," a female with hair unnaturally red hair shouted. Marin stared up at her blearily. She had just been tossed into the pit and happened to land on one of the mats strewn on the ground. _

"_Bu' I jus' go 'ere, an'…" _

"_I don' care. Move!" _

_When Marin didn't immediately oblige, the girl grabbed her and threw her into someone's lap. _

"_Whachoo doin' fallin' round 'ere, lass?" _

_Marin looked up into the man's face. His face might have been attractive, but in the place of his left eye, there was only creased skin and an x-shaped scar. _

_He looked her up and down and then pinched one of her budding breasts, making Marin shout, "A-ah!" Her heart started beating faster than ever. This was it. The fears of every girl who lived on the streets alone were about to become reality for Marin. He was going to rape her. _

"_Mm, you're too skinny for me taste. 'Ow ole? Twelve?" the man said. He didn't wait for an answer. He just pushed Marin off of his lap and moved over to the red-haired bitch. The twelve year old had never been so happy to be unwanted in her entire life. _

_Marin pushed herself off of the floor and looked around for an unoccupied mat. There were none. Thankfully, she managed to get into a corner and hide behind an unusually large, sleeping man before anyone noticed her again.  
She lay there with her back pressed against the wall with her eyes opened. Looking back, she realized that she'd only managed to keep her head by focusing on her breathing and the stranger's back. _

The probe didn't seem to be too interested in the old seamstress who had taken in street children and given them work by allowing them to sell her wares on the streets. To Marin's surprise, it didn't even linger over the day when the old woman had died and her nephew had thrown all of the kids out of the house.

It did take pleasure in making her relive her first trick.

_Marin slunk into the tavern. _

Cummon, girl, _she told herself. _Ya gotta steal sommat now. They won' cathchoo. Tha' las' time was jus' bad luck. Course i' was. Now, ya gotta ea'.

_But she still couldn't bring herself to put her hand on any drunk's purse, snatch it, and run. In her mind, every slightly sober man in the bar was a watchman, and every time one of those men looked at her, she was convinced they knew why she was there. _

"_Girl!" a male voice shouted. _

_Marin nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. Instead, she took a deep breath, gave herself her customary pep talk, and turned to see a middling man of middling wealth sitting there. _

"_How old are you?" he asked. _

"_Sixteen," Marin lied. There couldn't be any harm in making herself two years older. If anything, it might make this man less suspicious. _

"_No, you're not," the man snickered. _

"_I am…" _

"_Don't bother," he said, cutting her off. "I don't care how old you are. I'm drunk enough for that, and you're pretty and clean enough for me. I'm not drunk enough yet to drag myself down to Marmalade and blow everything I made this week on those overpriced tarts. So, why not take what you can get for the night? I say you're two copper crowns. How about it?"_

"_Sure." It seemed as though her mouth was moving on its own accord. Two crowns were easier made this way than stealing, she supposed. She tried not to think of what she'd have to do to earn them or what her grandmother would say. She wouldn't even let her mind stray to her father. _

"_Sure? Is that all you can say? Gods, you really are that cheap," the man smirked. _

"_Wha' do ya wan' me t' say?" Marin asked. She went to bite back tears, but then she realized they weren't coming. She just couldn't care that she'd agreed to give herself to this man for a few coppers, and he was insulting her. _

"_That's a little better, I suppose," he said. "I don't know what you're supposed to say in this case. I asked you, so just go with it."_

_Marin took a deep breath. She was going to walk towards him, and she knew she had to make that seductive. She supposed that she'd just sway her hips. But how…?_

_Her train of thought was cut off when her self-appointed client grabbed her and dragged her into the alleyway. It was happening too fast for Marin to know what to do or what to think. He kissed her ferociously, and his hand already slid up her too-short skirt. She let out a moan that was almost a scream before she could stop herself, but the man didn't seem to find it displeasing…_

_When it was all over, she sat there for a while, staring at the coins and then at the blood staining her skirt. It was almost amazing how something that precious could be taken from her in a matter of minutes and how her heart didn't waste time caring. At least she'd found a new way to stay alive. _

The probe didn't bother going through every single one of her nights. It didn't find them different enough from the first night. Then it found something interesting.

"_Look, girl, I need t' go somewhere I don' wanna be soon, so ya ge' this o'er with an' make i' good," her client explained gruffly. _

"_Aye, we'll ge' i' o'er and done with," Marin mumbled in annoyance. Then she put on an extremely bright and extremely fake smile. _

_The man just stared at her. She sighed and pushed herself against him. She kissed him, first on the lips, then on the chin and neck, and finally she trailed her kisses down his chest. As she undid the ties on his pants with her teeth, she never stopped to think just how amazing it was that something that she'd considered disgusting and servile a year or two ago had become work for her. _

"_Mm," she said, grinning at her client. "Three coppers?"_

"_Ya know, I don' even think wha' you're doin' is legal," he said slowly._

"_Well, you're still doin' i'," she said. "Ya came ou' 'ere agreein' t' pay me."_

"_Look, ya lil bitch, I ain' go' whachoo be wan'in'," the man shouted, slamming her brutally against the wall. _

"_Lemme go," she shouted. She raised her leg to knee him in the groin, but he caught it and forced it back down. His other hand wrapped around her throat. Marin gasped as her airway constricted. _

"_Scream again, try tha' again', and they'll fin' ya 'ere sometime tomorrow with a lil cu' from one ear t' the nex' righ' along your lil neck," he hissed. His finger traced the line across her throat as he said this._

_His voice was growing fainter, and he was moving away. But why was his hand still on her throat? _

"_Well, wha's i' gonna be?" he asked. _

_He tightened his grip on her throat, and Marin clawed at his wrist in desperation. He had to put her down. _

"_Mayhap I won't 'ave t' cu' ya," he said pensively. "Mayhap I'll jus' choke ya 'ere. Wha' d'ya say? Ya gonna figh' me anymore?" _

_Her nails wouldn't make contact. Her body wasn't obeying her anymore. He meant what he said. He was going to kill her, and she couldn't even stop him. Maybe it would have been better if the bandits had killed her too. Maybe..._

"_Stop it! You're killing her!" _

_Confusion swamped over Marin. Dante was supposed to be yelling that, but that wasn't his voice. _

Marin gasped as the air rushed back into her lungs. She fell to the ground as the bald man released her.

She lay there panting. She'd forgotten how wonderful air was, how good it felt to have it flowing through her lungs. She'd forgotten what it felt like not to have something ripping through her mind.

"Are you alright?" Murtagh asked.  
Marin looked up and realized that he'd been the one who'd shouted.

"Wha' did I do?" she asked quietly.

"You were choking," he replied levelly.

"I guess I was," she admitted, not meeting his gaze. Why did that make her feel guilty? It wasn't her fault that some bald guy had just made her relive her near-suffocation in an alleyway.

"Do the Varden let you kill people while you're searching them?" Eragon demanded.

"She wasn't dying," the bald man said. "He overreacted. He would not have if he knew what I found in her mind.."

Murtagh glared at him.

"I know," he said quietly.

"Well, let's see what she's done for you," the examiner said. Marin didn't have to look at him to know that he was smirking.

As the probe reentered her mind, she heard a voice.

_Marin, tell me what you want me to hide._

It was Saphira.

_Wha' are ya…_

_He'll kill you if I don't help you. He's too brutal. I can tell. Now, you tell me what you don't want him to know. _

_Um…_

_Hurry._

_Wha' 'appened afore Murtagh an' I broke Eragon outta prison an' 'oo Murtagh is._

_The Varden have a right to know who they shelter, _Saphira said.

_I know. I jus' don' wanna be the one 'oo gives 'im away,_ Marin told her lamely. _'Sides, if they know 'oo 'e is afore they star', they'll kill 'im._

_I'll do it, _Saphira said after a long pause.

When the dragon withdrew from her mind, Marin was plunged back into the memory.

_She was still leaning against the wall, but the hand was gone from her throat, and she was massaging it as she forced herself to remain standing. She didn't want to fall into the wall almost directly across from her or into her rescuer. _

_When she looked down, she was her client lying on the ground unconscious. _

"_Is 'e dead?" she asked her rescuer, a short but sturdy, black-haired man of about eighteen. _

"_Sorry t' say i', bu' 'e ain'," the young man replied. "Guess i's for the bes'. We'd both be screwed if 'e was."_

"_I guess so," Marin panted._

"_Ya alrigh'?" the man asked.  
"I can breathe," she replied. _

"_Well, tha's good," he said. _

"_Wha's your name?" her rescuer asked after an extremely long and awkward pause. _

"_Marin," she answered. "An' ya are?"_

"_Dante," he said. _

"_Well, thanks, Dante," she said lamely. How exactly did a person thank their savior? She'd never learned that lesson from her grandmother. _

_Dante leaned over and pulled a bag of coins out of the man's pocket. _

"_Guess this is yours," he said. "Dana'll kill me for no' takin' i', but I think you've been through more for i'."_

_Marin dumped the contents into her hand, counted them, and muttered, "Stupid blighter coulda paid me." Then she realized how ungrateful she sounded, so she took her fee from the bag and handed it to Dante. After all, the unconscious man had been her fifth client that night, so she would probably have enough for tomorrow. _

"_Ya saved me," she said. "Ya deserve tha' much." She felt disgusted with herself for the first time in a long time. He'd just saved her life. Why was she so grudging about giving him the money? _

_Dante shrugged. There was another long, awkward silence, and then he asked, "Look, I live with me sister, and we're kinda behind on the ren', an' I dunno 'ow we can ge' much cheaper. Well, we prolly can, but winters comin', ya know? Don' wanna ge' kicked ou' round then."_

_Marin frowned. What was he getting at? _

"_Well, wha' I'm askin' is, d'ya wanna live there with us?" Dante asked. _

"_Sure," Marin said. "Wasn' expectin' tha' stroke o' luck, bu' I'll take i'. And Dana ge's the money sorta, I guess."_

_Dante laughed nervously, and Marin wondered how he'd taken on a man a head than he was. _

The probe didn't seem to find anything exhilarating about the trip back to Dante's slum, as it skimmed it. It stopped skimming as soon as Dante let her in, and Dana spoke her first words in Marin's presence.

"_Dante, why dija bring 'er 'ere? I tol' ya, if ya wan' a 'ooker, 'ave somewhere else. I coulda 'ad a guy 'ere," a short, curvy girl with thick, curly black hair chided.  
The girl, who had to be Dana, got up off of a mattress that was presumably her bed, and took Marin in. _

"_Are ya gonna explain why ya brough' this skinny lil bin' 'ere?" Dana asked._

"_Oh, she was bein' attacked by some guy in an alleyway, an' I knocked 'im ou'. I figured since we need 'elp on the ren', an' Jamison's already go' a place, and ya can' stan' Seleyn, 'oo's with Jamison anyway, she coul' live 'ere with us and pay some ren'," Dante explained. _

"_She's go' a big ole bruise round 'er neck, an' 'er dress is all ole," Dana complained. "'Ow's she gonna make money?"_

"_I make money fine enough now," Marin said. _

"_An' ya ain' go' a place?" Dana asked. _

"_Can' fin' one cheap enough," Marin replied. _

"_Wha's the' arm in takin' 'er in, Dana?" Dante asked. _

"_Well, we're both stronger than she is," Dana remarked. "Mm, why no'? Now, bou' the dress…"_

Much to Marin surprise, the sadistic probe didn't find the way Dana had redone Marin's dress using fabric scraps, stolen red dye, and stolen scissors while Marin was still wearing said dress amusing enough to give it full attention.

The probe didn't find Marin's next ordeal in prison nearly as interesting as her first ordeal. As she and Dana had been turned in by the same man, she'd been lucky enough to have somewhat trustworthy company in the pits. It finally paused on a very interesting memory.

"'_Ey ya!" Jamison shouted to a man sleeping at his desk. He and Marin had just entered a rich man's inn in search of Seleyn. The probe had seemed to find everything before this point boring and worthy only of being skimmed. _

_The man blinked and sat up. It was in their favor that he was tired, Marin supposed, because if he hadn't been, they'd have been thrown out of there in an instant. _

"_Wha'd'ya wan'?" he asked. _

"_Did a man 'bou' me age with blondish 'air, middle 'eigh', middle weigh' come in 'ere?" Jamison asked. Dina, a barmaid at the Golden Globe, had told him that Seleyn had left to stay the night with such a man. " 'E'da 'ad a red-'aired woman, 'bou' seventeen with 'im."_

_The man didn't miss a beat as he answered, "Oh, tha'd be young Tábor. 'E lef' an hour ago."_

_Jamison cursed silently and walked into the alleyway. _

"_Well, tha'll mean we jus' wasted sleepin' time," Marin remarked. "She'll be a' 'ome for ya and askin' where ya been."_

_Jamison didn't say anything. He just stopped and stared. _

"_Well, lil Marin, I guess I was righ' t' worry," Jamison said. An almost accusing note had crept into his voice. _

"_Wha'?" she asked. _

"_Turn, and look roun' ya," he said. His voice was oddly controlled. _

_Marin did so slowly. She'd never heard Jamison talk like that, and it unnerved her. _

_When she saw what was behind her, she leapt backwards and hit the wall. Jamison didn't even turn to look at her. He just down at the body in front of him and began to speak in a low, controlled voice. _

"_Yeah, i' is nasty. Ain' seen much worse'n this. Dress is all torn up, thighs bruised. Poor thing go' rutted…"_

_What about the time the man in jail had almost gotten her? What would have happened to her if he had? _

" _And then she go' bea' real bad. 'Ellgrin' an' 'ellfire, she go' 'er blacked up worse'n ya e'er 'ad…" _

_How many time had that happened to her? How many times could it have gotten worse? _

"_An' then 'e wen' t' strangle 'er."_

_And then there had been that night she'd met Dante. Was this what would have happened to her?_

" _See, ya can tell cause 'er lips are goin' blue, an' 'er face is all bloated…_"

_The beer and food she'd consumed earlier that day was churning unpleasantly in her stomach. She couldn't take much more of this. _

"'_Oo knows why? Mayhap 'e jus' thinks 'e's gettin' rid o' this city's trash. Mayhap someone shoul' do this t' 'im. Yeah, tha'd be i'. Or mayhap i' woulda been be'er if we'd gotten 'ere sooner."_

_Marin's eyes widened when he said that. Oh gods, he was blaming her. But this wasn't her fault…was it? She hadn't thought that anything had happened, that Seleyn was just staying late, and he'd had to convince her to go and look with him. Maybe if they'd gotten here just a little earlier, they could have stopped him killing her. _

_But Jamison just continued talking. "Yeah, she was fightin' 'im off. She musta been. Tha'd be why 'e took 'is knife t' 'er. Nearly took 'er 'ead off when 'e cu' 'er throa'. Butchered 'er neck, 'e did. An' i' was always so pretty. Now i's bruised and bloodied an'…an' sli'."_

_The bile was rising in her throat now. She swallowed it before she yelled, "Stop. Please. Stop i'. Ya shouldn' even know all tha'…ugh." The lump she'd just swallowed came up again, and she vomited in the alleyway. _

"_I've seen too much death , lass. More'n ya 'ave. If ya'd seen tha' much, ya wouldn' o' done tha'. Bu' I don' for tha'. You're jus' no' used t' i' all as much as think ya are. Mayhap when you're 'round twenty ya'll be able t' give a death repor' like a watcher," Jamison said. "Gods, I've seen way too much. Jus' this time i's 'er 'oo's been done in an' lef' there. Funny thing is, I ne'er though' i' woul' be. I shoulda known i' woul' be 'er one day." His voice had been completely calm when he'd started, but by the end he was screaming. Then suddenly his arm shot forward, and he punched the wall. _

"_Damn!" he shouted. "Damn tha' 'urts, an' damn tha' was dumb. Really shouldn'a done tha'." Then he started laughing. "Oh gods, tha' was so dumb," he cackled as he dubbled over, clutching his hand in pain. _

_Marin's eyes widened even further and her mouth dropped open. For once, she couldn't think of anything to say. Then again, what was there to say when you watched your friend laughing over his bleeding hand and his dead rent mate? _

_Then Jamison stopped and looked up. "Think I'm goin' insane, donchoo?"_

_Marin didn't say anything. She just stared. _

"_Ya wanna know wha's really insane is tha' Seleyn ain' gonna be the las' one dead, and she wasn' the firs'. Cause i's always someone 'oo's lyin' dead, and the only guessin's t' 'oo's i' gonna be," Jamison declared. The laughter hadn't quite left his voice, and all of a sudden, Marin resisted the urge to shake him and shout, "This isn' funny." But she didn't because she realized that he was laughing because it was better than crying and that he could forgive her for anything except seeing him weak._

"_I's no' gonna be me," she said. _

"_Ya know tha', do ya?" he teased. _

"_I'm gonna go back t' thievin'," she said._

"_Thieves die," he stated._

"_No' as much as whores," she retorted. "Ya tol' me they don' make 'emselves as vulnerable."_

_Jamison stared at her for a long time, refusing to look back at Seleyn. _

"_Cummon, le's ge' outta 'ere afore they find us an' blame us," he said. "I'll 'ave Coralee claim 'er later. Now common. You're stayin' with me t'nigh'. I need ya t' remin' me t' stay sane."_

_The probe continued to skim until it found another memory that interested. _

_The door opened, and Dante trudged in, followed by Coralee who had slung a sack over her shoulder, and Jamison who had a black kitten draped over his shoulders. _

"_Wha's tha', and why do ya go' a ca', Jamison?" Marin asked, shoving Dana's foot out of her face. _

"_I don' care wha' or why. I wanna know why ya 'ad t' wake us up like tha', Dante. Marin and I jus' go' t' sleep," Dana whined. _

"_We needed t' use your fire place for this," Coralee said. "Stupid whores down a' me place wouldn' lemme use ours."_

"_An' Jamison…." Dana began._

"_Don' 'ave a fireplace. Only place I can afford ain' go' none," Jamison finished. He looked remarkably self-satisfied, and Coralee looked pleased with both him and Dante. The last of three looked disturbed about something. _

"_Use i' then," Dana said. _

_Coralee emptied the sack into the fireplace. It was when Marin saw the bloodstained clothes that fell out that she realized that Dante was wearing an outfit that she had never seen before. _

"_Wha's goin' on?" she asked him. "An', Jamison, wha's with the ca'?"_

_Coralee interrupted the discussion by making Dana help her with the fire. _

"_This lil girlie's Smyrna, an' she's Coralee's reward for a job well done," Jamison replied. _

"_Wha' job?" Marin asked. "Dante, wha' job?"_

"_We found the man who did Seleyn in, an' Jamison go' 'im t' admi' i'. 'E was proud o' i', damn i'! An' I stabbed 'im while 'e was gloatin'," Dante shouted. "An' now I'm a murderer." He said the last part quietly._

"_Oh, cummon, Dante. Flatter yourself. Say you're an avenger," Jamison said, patting him on the back. _

"_Please tell me ya threw the knife away," Dana said. _

"_I's a' the bottom o' a well now," Coralee replied. "Well, now I've gotta be gettin' back t' Marmalade. See ya." She kissed Dante and Jamison while Dana rolled her eyes. _

_When Marin opened her mouth to say something to Dante, he just turned over and pulled the blankets away from Dana, who pulled some back. _

"_I was gonna say ya gave 'im wha' 'e deserved," she mumbled. _

_After that, the probe skimmed everything up to the point of their travels. Those, it picked apart slowly and carefully. It was almost as though it wanted to find fault with something that she, Eragon, or Murtagh had done. The thought unnerved Marin. She wasn't used to people trying to find reasons to punish. Then again, they'd never needed to look very hard to find them before. _

When the probe withdrew from her mind, Marin let out a strangled noise and ground her back into the floor. Then when she went to sit up, she felt so dizzy that she almost back onto the ground. She looked up from the ground and saw two identical soldiers staring at her. Oh wait. They were just one man. There weren't two.

"Take her again," the bald man told the guard in front of her.

When the guard jerked her to her feet, she staggered and would have fallen over if the soldier hadn't grabbed her.

"What did you do to her?" Eragon demanded.

"I searched her mind," the bald man replied coolly. "She'll be fine."

"She's not fine," Murtagh cut in. "She can't even focus."

"I can too…Ugh." Marin doubled over and vomited all over the floor.

The interrogator backed away from the mess. Then he turned to the assembled men and said. "She's rotten to the core, but she's not an enemy." Finally, he turned to Eragon and put his hand on his forehead.

Murtagh's eyes flicked from Marin to Eragon and back again. The feeling of his eyes on her made her feel even fainter, if that was possible. She tried to keep staring at the ground because that was easier to focus on, but his eyes seemed to demand that she meet them.

"I am ready," Eragon said, and Marin looked up at the rider. His expression was grim yet set.

"Good, then—"

"You've already almost killed the girl, and you'd better not harm him, Egraz Carn, else the king will have words for you," Orik interrupted.

The bald man shot Orik an irritated glance and then turned back to Eragon. "Only if he resists."

If Marin had the heart to argue, she would have commented on the fact that she hadn't offered any resistance. But of course that wouldn't have been wise.

_Mayhap I'll come outta this knowin' wha' wisdom is, _she thought.

Marin didn't look up at the rider, but she heard him gasp in pain as the man began to probe him. A few minutes later, Marin found that she could focus on the faces around her. Then she saw Eragon's tortured expression and looked at Murtagh. He wasn't looking at her anymore. He was watching Eragon's probing with a defiant expression. Then it occurred to Marin that Murtagh might actually refuse to be probed. Then she banished the thought from her mind. He was too smart to do something like that. He'd seen how violent this man could be, and he wouldn't provoke him. At she hoped he wouldn't.

Marin looked back at Eragon when she heard him collapse. Orik caught him and laid him down on the floor. Marin wondered if why he hadn't done that for her. But of course Eragon was the rider, so he was more important. She'd have to keep that in mind.

"You went too far! He wasn't strong enough for this," Orik protested.

"He'll live. That's all that is needed," the bald man retorted.

"What did you find?" Orik grunted.

Silence.

"Well, is he to be trusted or not?"

"He…is not your enemy," the bald man admitted reluctantly.

There was an audible sigh of relief.

Eragon opened his eyes slowly and gingerly sat up.

"Easy now," Orik said as he pulled the blue rider to his feet.

Saphira growled at the bald man just as Eragon glared at him. Marin decided to add her own glare. It couldn't hurt.

The bald man ignored them. He simply turned to Murtagh, who was being held at sword point, and said, "It's your turn now."

The ominous words sent a shiver down Marin's spine. The interrogator seemed to like Murtagh the least of all, and that most definitely did not bode well for him.

Murtagh stiffened and shook his head. As he did so, the sword cut into his neck, drawing blood. "No."

"Murtagh, don' be stupid. They'll kill ya. I' can' be worth tha'," Marin shouted before she could stop herself. Her heart was pounding now. She'd made him come here, and now they'd kill him because of his secret.

Murtagh didn't look at her. He only stared defiantly at the bald man.

"Listen to her," the bald man hissed. "Maybe she sells everything she's got, but at least she'll live. You will not be protected here if you refuse."

"Eragon and Marin have been declared trustworthy, so you cannot kill them to influence me. Since you can't do that, nothing you say or do will convince me to open my mind."

Sneering, the bald man raised a nonexistent eyebrow. "What of your own life? I can threaten that."

_Cummon, Murtagh, _Marin thought. _No stranger's life is more importan' than your own, righ'?_

"It won't do any good," Murtagh replied with such conviction that it was impossible to doubt his word.

"Wha' 'appened t' no' takin' chances, Murtagh?" Marin asked.

Murtagh still refused to look at her, and the bald man ignored her outburst.

"You don't have a choice!" he shouted. With that, he placed his hand on Murtagh's forehead, and held him in place with the other.

Murtagh stiffened instantly. His fists and teeth were clenched, and the muscles in his neck bulged as the bald man fought back with equal exertion.

Marin watched them, eyes wide. She didn't understand what was going on, but it looked like one or the other was going to die to win the battle.

Because her eyes never left the two men in front of her, she didn't notice Orik until he shouted, "That is enough!"

He seized the bald man's arm and tore it away from Murtagh forehead.

The bald man stumbled back, shocked that Orik had questioned his authority again. "How dare you! You questioned my leadership without permission, and now this! You've shown nothing but insolence and treachery. Do you think your king will protect you now?"

_Figures, tha' 'e was the one keepin' us outta there, _Marin thought.

Orik bristled. "You would have let them die! If I had waited any longer, the Urgals would have killed them." He pointed at Murtagh, who hadn't stopped panting. "We don't have any right to torture him for information! Ajihad wouldn't sanction it. Not after you've examined the rider and the girl and found them both free of fault. And they've brought us Arya."

Marin suddenly decided that Orik was her new hero. Ah, lovestruck... kawaii.

"Would you allow him to enter unchallenged? Are you so great a fool as to put us all at risk?" the bald man demanded. His eyes bulged as he stared at the dwarf, almost panting in anger. If he'd suddenly taken Orik's axe torn him to pieces, it wouldn't have been a shock.

"Can he use magic?" Orik asked, and Marin knew that the dwarf had won.

"That is—"

"Can he use magic?" Orik shouted.

The angry expression suddenly left the bald man's face. He clasped his hands behind his back and whispered, "No."

"Then what do you fear? It's impossible for him to escape, and he can't work any devilry with all of us here, especially if your powers are as great as you say. But don't listen to me; ask Ajihad what he wants done."

The bald man closed his eyes and began what appeared to be a full blown, inaudible conversation with either the air or himself.

His eyes snapped open, and he rounded on the warriors, shouting, "Leave, now."

The men obeyed, and the interrogator told Eragon, "Because I was unable to complete my examination, you and…your friends will remain here for the night. The belligerent one will be killed if he attempts to escape."

"Thank you," Eragon whispered to Orik.

"You're amazin'," Marin added.

The dwarf grunted. "I'll make sure some food is brought." He muttered at string of words that sounded like curses under his breath and left shaking his head. The sound of a lock clicking into place filled the room and then it was silent.

Yeah, the chapter turned out longer than intended, and I didn't get all that I wanted done in it. sobs Well, there's always next one. Don't have time to leave responses. Sorry. I'll update when I get back from vacation. I leave tomorrow, and I've gotta back and stuff.


	19. What I Want

What I Want

Disclaimer: I just own Marin. All the rest belongs to Paolini.

The silence continued for several seconds. During that time, Marin drummed her fingers against her arm and sucked in her breath, trying to think of something to say. (It was funny how words only failed her when she needed them most.) As her mind searched for something to say, her eyes searched the room for inspiration.

Murtagh, his eyes glazed and empty, fell against the wall and slid to the floor. Marin stopped drumming her fingers and bit down on her lip when she saw the blood running down his neck.

Eragon asked, "Are you alright?"

Marin asked herself contemptuously, _Gods, ya couldn' even come up with tha' one? _

The rider's next question was, "Did he get anything from you?"

"No," Murtagh replied.

"How were you able to keep him out? He's so strong."

"I've…I've been well-trained," Murtagh replied bitterly.

Marin listened to the whole exchanged, feeling ignorant yet again. There was so much she didn't know or understand what seemed like second nature to them. She wished that she had been able to fight that man and give him a taste of his own medicine. But that would have gotten her killed, and nothing, not her thoughts, her freedom, her body, her honor, or anything else, was worth as much to her as whatever it was that kept her heart beating and her blood flowing.

When her train of thought halted, she realized that the silence had returned. This time, Marin thought up a way to break it.

"Saphira 'elped me 'ide 'oo ya were, if tha' makes ya feel any be'er," she told him. Murtagh's head jerked up, his eyes slightly wider than usual.

"I didn't let them know who you were either," Eragon added.

Murtagh lowered his head and breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Thank you for not betraying me," he whispered.

"You're welcome," Marin said.

"They didn't recognize you," Eragon put in.

"No."

"Well, we 'ad t' ge' some luck sometime," Marin mumbled.

"And you still say that you are Morzan's son?" Eragon pressed, ignoring Marin for what wasn't the first time. The girl sighed in resignation.

"Yes," Murtagh said.

The regret in his voice made her feel small. He regretted the accident of his birth twice as much as she regretted her conscious decision to steal and prostitute herself.

"I' doesn' ma'er, ya know," Marin said quietly. "Ya didn' chose i'. I's no' your faul'."

"The Varden won't see it that way," Murtagh retorted.

"Prolly no'," Marin conceded.

"Was that meant to be comforting?" Murtagh asked.

"Well, you're no' an easy person t' comfor'. I try sommat, bu' i's always wrong," Marin said. "'Sides, I mean' I' didn' ma'er t' me. I don' think I know anyone 'cep' mayhap Eragon 'ere 'oo coul' be proud o' both o' their parents. I don' even 'oo me ma is."

"I don't know who my father is," Eragon said.

"Almos' everyone I know's like tha'," Marin said.

"Not knowing would be a blessing," Murtagh whispered.

Suddenly a large splash of blood dropped onto Eragon's hand. He looked up to see Saphira.

Marin felt a twinge of guilt. They'd all completely forgotten about the dragon who had saved their lives countless times and sacrificed the most during the journey. Maybe that was why fate had sent her on this journey: to make her feel as low as she was. Then again, who knew if there even was fate? If there was fate, then what was the purpose in Sorin's death? What did it matter if Seleyn was still alive in the grand scheme of things? Or maybe there was fate, but it only cared about the important people who did important things that affected everyone, and everyone else was left to live or die as they or someone else pleased. Then Marin thought of the scar on Murtagh's back, and her self-esteem sank even lower. Apparently fate didn't care about children either.

"I hope they'll bring food soon," Murtagh said as Eragon slumped against the newly healed Saphira.

Marin's stomach grumbled in agreement. She'd forgotten about her hunger while her mind had been filled with either lack of sleep, impending danger, or her various social problems. Now her stomach churned as it begged for food, and she slumped against the wall.

"Why are you here?" Eragon asked.

'What?" Murtagh asked as Marin thought it.

"If you're really Morzan's son, Galbatorix wouldn't let you wander around Alagaësia freely. How is it that you managed to find the Ra'zac by yourself? Why is it I've never heard of the Foresworn having children? And what are you doing here?" The blue rider's voice rose and shook by the end of the question.

For some odd reason, before she thought that she agreed with Eragon's questions, Marin thought, _An' why is i' tha' nobody talks 'bou' the only female Forsworn? _

"It's a long story," Murtagh said, running a hand over his face.

"We're not going anywhere," Eragon shot back.

"It's too late to talk," Murtagh said.

"We 'aven' slep' in days. We can wai' a lil longer," Marin put in.

"And there probably won't be time for it tomorrow," Eragon added.

"'Sides, Me an' Eragon both jus' 'ad t' go through our pasts," Marin finished. "I ain' fun, bu' i's gotta 'appen sometime."

Murtagh wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on his knees, rocking back and forth as he stared at the floor. "It's not a—" Then he interrupted himself. "I don't want to stop…so make yourself comfortable. My story will take a while."

Both Eragon and Marin shifted into more comfortable positions.

Murtagh's first sentence was halting, but his voice gained strength and confidence as he spoke. "As far as I know…I am the only child of the Thirteen Servants, or the Forsworn as they're called. There may be others, for the Thirteen had the skill to hide whatever they wanted, but I doubt it, for reasons I'll explain later."

For some reason, that sentence lifted Marin's spirits considerably. The moment Murtagh had spoken of the Foresworn's children, a vision of the elf whispering the name Den-ner while looking at Marin entered her mind. But that was ridiculous. She didn't even know if Den-ner was real or if she had heard the name right. Yes, it had probably been her mind playing tricks on her. She'd remembered the name from the dream, and she'd misheard the name the elf had said as Den-ner. Such an odd name. It was safe to assume that there had probably never even been a Den-ner.

Murtagh continued after a slight pause to collect his thoughts. He went on to tell of how his parents had met in a small village and of how Morzan had gained his mother's confidence by showing some small kindness to her.

_Dante had saved her life, and Jamison had taught how to steal without being caught…but they'd never hurt her, and they weren't the king's men. _

Then he went on about how Morzan had discovered his servant's love for him and taken advantage of it.

Marin wondered what that felt like, to know that one held somebody's heart in one's hand and then to use it for one's own gain. Did it feel powerful or did it feel evil? Maybe it felt both. And how did it feel to love someone, truly and deeply, and to be used by the one you loved? What was it worth after all? It brought nothing but heartbreak and pain because even if the one you loved you, they'd have to die someday, and then they'd leave you empty. That was how Morzan had left Murtagh's mother. He'd taken her away from the son whom she'd loved and kept her as a spy and a toy until her lover had nearly killed his son in a drunken fit.

Murtagh paused again, and Marin watched his face. His eyes were narrowed, and his breathing had become ragged. He looked like he had when he'd realized he had to go to the Varden.

Marin closed her eyes as they began to water. She took deep breath and wet her lips before opening them again. Then she made herself think of the story and what lesson it was teaching her. She didn't need to cry for Murtagh if he wasn't crying for himself, and if she was, it had better not be because…but she didn't. Not yet at least. She certainly liked him now, and maybe she'd learn to feel something more, though she doubted it. She couldn't comprehend how she could end up falling in love with a man she couldn't even begin to understand. He was too enigmatic, too mercurial for that.

Murtagh's momentary pause ended and stopped her train of thought.

He told them how his father had been sent away after Saphira's egg with the other two remaining Foresworn, of how his mother had vanished, of how they had all been killed during that hunt, and of how Morzan had been the last to fall while facing Brom in Gil'ead. He told them of the king's rage over the losses and of his mother's death when she returned. Then he stopped for a moment before Eragon prompted, "What happened then?"

Murtagh shrugged. "I grew up. The king brought me to the palace and arranged for my upbringing. Aside from that, he left me alone."

"Then why did you leave?" Eragon asked. Marin wondered the same thing. If he'd been provided for and unharmed by the king, then why did he leave a life that was perfectly comfortable?

A harsh laugh broke from Murtagh before he continued. According to him, the king had summoned to a private dinner when he'd turned eighteen. Murtagh had accepted the offer, and the king had convinced him to help with rebuilding the empire and driving out the Urgals. Murtagh had listened, entranced, and accepted his off wholeheartedly.

Several months later, the king had taken him up on his promise and told him to raise some place called Cantos because Varden members had been known to hide there. When Murtagh had asked him what he should do with the innocents, Galbatorix told him to kill them all because they were all guilty of sheltering rebels.

Then a terrible thought occurred to her. She remembered the rumor that had spread from the palace to the streets that Galbatorix would be coming there. The time of his supposed arrival was said to have been the week after she'd fled. Supposing he'd had the same thing in mind for Dras Leona as he'd had for Cantos, and she'd still been there.

She gulped. She'd seen somebody burned once. If she closed her eyes, she could still see their flesh crumbling away and smell their bodies burning. She nearly choked as she felt ashes fill her throat.

Murtagh glanced at her. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said quickly.

_Bu' tha' didn' 'appen_, she told herself. They'd have heard if Galbatorix had burned the city to the ground. He'd probably just punished Marcus Tábor for abusing his power. Yes, that was good. Somebody had given that bastard who couldn't control his own family what he deserved, and if that somebody just happened to have been an even bigger bastard…well, beggars couldn't be choosers.

Murtagh continued by saying, "As soon as I was free of his presence, I and my faithful servant, Tornac, made ready for flight. We left that very night, but somehow Galbatorix anticipated my actions, for there were soldiers waiting for us outside the gates. Ah, my sword was bloody, flashing in the dim lantern glow. We defeated the men…but in the process, Tornac was killed."

Murtagh's voice wavered ever slightly as he finished. He paused, took a breath, and continued. "Alone and filled with grief, I fled to an old friend who sheltered me on his estate. While I hid, I listened carefully to every rumor, trying to predict Galbatorix's actions and plan my future. During that time, talk reached me that the Ra'zac had been sent to capture or kill someone. Remembering the king's plans for the riders, I decided to find and follow the Ra'zac, just in case they _did_ discover a dragon. And that's how I found you…I have no more secrets."

Marin sat there quietly, wondering if she should tell them how she had come to find them, but then she decided that they already knew more about her than she'd ever intended them to.

"So, why don't you join the Varden? They'll distrust you for a while, but once you prove your loyalty, they'll treat you with respect. And aren't they in a sense your allies? They strive to end the king's reign. Isn't that what you want?" Eragon asked.

"Must I spell everything out for you?" Murtagh demanded. "I don't want Galbatorix to learn where I am, which is inevitable if people start saying I've sided with his enemies, which I've never done. These," he paused, then pronounced the words with distaste, "_rebels_ are trying not to overthrow the king but to destroy the empire…and I don't want that to happen. It would sow mayhem and anarchy. The king is flawed, yes, but the system itself is sound. As for earning the Varden's respect: Ha! Once I'm exposed, they'll treat me like a common criminal or worse. Not only that, suspicion will fall upon you two because we traveled together."

"Well, if the king's good enough t' stay on 'is throne for a 'undred bloody years with a 'ole bunch o' rebels runnin' aroun' tryin' t' ge' 'im offa i', ain' 'e gonna be smar' enough t' fin' ya no ma'er where ya are? And since 'e doesn' even know where the Varden are, 'ow's 'e gonna fin' ya if you're 'ere? An' as for anarchy and mayhem, I lived there for sixteen 'ole years," Marin argued. "An' Eragon's a rider. 'E ge's all the breaks, and some are gonna distrus' me anyway."

"If I did what he suggested," Murtagh retorted, "they'd send me on a suicide mission to prove my loyalty, and as for your _world_, it's always been there. A new government won't change that."

"Ya don' 'ave t' spi' on i'," she whispered, her eyes narrowing. "I's dirty enough."

Eragon groaned loudly.

"Don't start another fight. I don't need it now," Eragon shouted. "And Murtagh, it isn't that bad. I'm sure that they wouldn't be—"

The door opened abruptly, cutting Eragon off, and someone slipped three wooden bowls, a loaf of bread, and a hunk of meat through the door. When whoever it was finished delivering the food, he shut the door quickly as though he thought one of them was bound to jump up and attack him if he stayed there too long.

"Finally," Murtagh grumbled, going to the food. Marin darted forward, nearly drooling at the sight of the meal, and grabbed her bowl, and retreated to the corner. She dumped the bowl's contents into her mouth, barely pausing to chew before she swallowed. The bowl was empty within a minute, and Marin put it down.

Murtagh and Eragon were both staring at her. The latter looked appalled by her substandard manners, and the former just shook his head and said, "Honestly, Marin, if you're hungry, just eat your food. Don't hold back for politeness' sake. Please."

"May I 'ave me bread?" she asked, ignoring him.

Murtagh split the loaf into three parts and tossed one to each of them. Then he took his own bowl and ate.

None of the three humans spoke a word during the meal, and if Saphira said anything to Eragon, he didn't show it. After they finished, Murtagh announced that he was going to sleep. Then, without further ado, he put down his bowl and laid down on his bedroll.

"Good night," Eragon called to him, curling up next to his dragon. Saphira put her wing over him, shielding them both from view.

"G'nigh'," Marin mumbled, going over to her bedroll. She spread it, laid down, and by the time she pulled the blankets over her head, she had fallen into a deep sleep.

_A small smile formed on Den-ner lips as she examined the two daggers. Her eyes darted from one to the other, trying to find some difference between them, but they were identical. Perfectly so. _

_A drop of blood stained the snow, and Den-ner's mind snapped back to her injury. She pressed her hand against her left arm and muttered one of the few magical phrases that she knew. "Waíse heil."_

_She gasped as the power went out from her, sapping her strength as it did so. She gritted her teeth and snapped the connection between her brain her magic. When it was over, she sat there, her eyes half-massed, panting. _

You should've asked for my help first, _Lïornien said smugly. _

Can ya jus' give i' already? _Den-ner asked savagely. _I go' this stupid cu' stoppin' the mad elf woman from killin' ya.

She almost killed me because I was distracting her for you while you stole those two…whatevers. Honestly, couldn't you have gotten a proper sword from her? She's an elfin smith after all, never mind if she's traveling with humans, _Lïornien retorted. _

Well, thanks for tha', _Den-ner said. _Now can ya 'elp with the 'ealin'?

Yes, I'll help you heal "tha' stupid cu'," which is really more than a cut, so stop beating around the bush, _the orange dragon said. _

_Den-ner nodded and repeated the healing phrase. This time, the ordeal was relatively easy._

"_Is that what you stole?" a male voice asked. _

_Den-ner's head jerked up, and her eyes met with those of tall, thin, blond man. _

"_Ligan," she said, inhaling. _

"_That's me. And you have don't have to look so disappointed about it," the man, Ligan, said casually._

"'_Ow' d'ya 'bou' the stealin' thing?" she asked. _

"_Morzan said that you'd done it. He was actually quite proud of you. I think it was a shame you didn't get that elf," Ligan remarked. _

"'_Ey, I go' the daggers from 'er, ran, and I dunno wha' she did af'er tha'. And since none o' ya'll go' 'er, I dunno wha' I did wrong," Den-ner said. _

"_So, those are what you stole?" Ligan asked, changing the subject._

"_Yes," Den-ner said tersely. _

"_Are you going to name them?" he asked mockingly. _

"_I dunno. I think i's kinda stupid," she said. _

"_Morzan doesn't. Just be sure not to pick as dumb as name as he did. Zar'roc…honestly, why didn't he just scream, 'I'm going to kill you all,' to the riders and be done with it. Then again, you can't say that the idiots picked up on it, so what do I know?" Ligan asked._

"_Nothin', i' woul' seem," Den-ner said. _

_Ligan started laughing wildly. "You're amusing, you know. Ignorant, dishonest, rude, uncultured, and yet thoroughly and adorably amusing. Now, since I know nothing and I frown on naming weapons, what will you name yours? Because if you named yours, then by your logic, you'd know nothing."_

"_Den-ner," she said quietly holding on up, "and Drac-ner."_

"_Why those?" Ligan asked. _

"_Drac-ner was me twin," she whispered. "'E died afore we lef' Sharktooth. We were only four."_

_Ligan stood there for a moment, and then he said, "I don't want to hear your life story. I didn't ask for it." _

"_Ya asked a question, an' I answered!" Den-ner snapped. _

"_Well, here's mine. How do you propose to tell them apart?" Ligan asked. _

"_I'll write on 'em when I learn 'ow," Den-ner replied._

"_Oy, Morzan, do you know that she doesn't even know how to write?" Ligan shouted. _

Marin's eyes flew open as the dream ended abruptly.

_Why can' I e'er finish? _she thought dully. If she could finish them, then she might be able to make some sense of them, and if she could make some sense of them, she might be able to determine whether or not they were real.

_Le's see,_ she thought. _Morzan looked like Murtagh, an' 'e sounded like 'im too, so mayhap i' supposed t' tell me tha' 'e was 'is father. Bu' I already know 'bou' tha', so why's i' still 'appenin'?_

Then something occurred to her. She'd never gone back to sleep right after finishing one of the dreams. She'd always gotten up and done something. Maybe if she went back to sleep now, she'd finish her dream, and it would make more sense.

She lay back down, resting on her stomach with her head turned to the side. She closed her eyes, expecting to fall asleep immediately, but it wouldn't come; her mind was too full. She tossed and turned, but sleep kept evading her. She sat up angrily, scowling at the darkened room. Then her stomach started to grumble, and she almost howled in exasperation. The little meal that had been provided for them hadn't been enough.

She got up and rummaged through her pack, mumbling a silent prayer to gods she didn't believe in that she had to find something edible in there. Of course, there was nothing. She had never carried food. That had been Murtagh's job.

At that thought, she glanced over at Murtagh. Maybe he still had food in his pack.

She stayed on her knees and crawled slowly towards Murtagh. When she reached him, he was lying on his pack with his pack resting off to the side and his left hand resting on top of it.

Marin's eyes darted over him, taking in his deep, steady breathing and his relaxed body. It was strange seeing him off his guard like this, almost disconcerting. She was so used to the ever-alert outlaw who reacted to every sudden movement. The sight of him relaxed made her feel safer, perhaps because if he found nothing to fear, then there couldn't be anything to fear.

_Stupid, _she told herself. How was one supposed to trust the word of someone else as to whether or not something was safe? She'd learned that one had to rely on oneself to stay safe. Or at least she should have.

She took a deep breath and reached over Murtagh to grab the pack. She froze, heart pounding, when her right arm brushed against his stomach. She closed her eyes, skin tingling as she did so, and moved her arm from his tunic. Her heart raced as she realized that she couldn't quite reach the pack. Slowly, she lifted her left arm and leaned over him, her own stomach perhaps half an inch above his. She bit down on her lip as her stomach started to tingle as well and her entire body begged to lower itself that meager distance to touch his.

_Jus' ge' the food, _she told herself. _Tha' way, ya won't wake 'im, and ya can ge' food._ Her muscles strained as her fingers brushed against the bag. She bit back a grunt as she pushed farther forward, managing to grab the bag.

Murtagh's hand hit the floor when the bag was pulled out from under it, and Marin, who was stilling leaning over him, found herself being flipped over and pinned to the floor.

"Marin!" Murtagh whispered hoarsely as he recognized her face.

"Um, I wan'ed food, and ya looked so comfy, I didn' wanna wake ya?" she mumbled lamely, finally coming up with something to say. She felt she should be congratulated for doing so. Murtagh seemed to be doing his utmost to make it impossible for her to think. His lower body rested firmly on her abdomen, his right hand held both of hers above her head, and his left hand rested on her sternum. A purr crept into her throat, but she bit it back. Her entire body was burning to take more from him and to give more.

Murtagh slowly moved off of her, his hand gliding down her stomach and leaving a chill in its wake. His eyes remained fixed on her body, examining it with strange intensity, but he remained silent.

"Ya do wan' me," she whispered half to herself. A strange feeling washed over her at the realization. She felt both happy and mischievous at the same time. This would be fun.

"What?" he hissed.

Marin sat up slowly, coming forward so that she was on her knees. Then she cocked her head to the side, grinning at him slightly.

"Ya 'eard me," she said innocently, crawling just a little closer.

Murtagh closed his eyes and drew in his breath. Then he picked up his sack and opened it.

"There's not food left," he stated emotionlessly.

Marin shrugged. "I'm no' 'ungry anymore. No' for food anyway."

"You're kidding me," Murtagh said. "You woke me up from the best sleep I've had in gods know how long, and now you don't even want food anymore?"

"Pretty much," Marin said.

"You're impossible," Murtagh muttered.

"Well, ya are too," Marin said. At this point, she was leaning over his shoulder with her hand right next to his thigh.

"Why are you doing this?" Murtagh asked quietly as he watched her from the corner of his eye.

"Wha' I wan'," Marin said simply.

"And what are you gaining from it?" Murtagh asked.

"Ya've given me all tha' ya can give already withou' me givin' ya anything," Marin replied.

Murtagh turned to face her, his left hand gripping her chin. "So this is payback?" he asked.

"I 'aven' give anything ye'," Marin said, her lips curling into a smile. As she leaned forward, her heart began to pound. Suppose she'd thought wrong, and this all blew up in her face? But she had to keep going. She'd gone too far to turn back.

She kissed him. Her hands threaded through his dark and surprisingly soft hair, pulling his face closer to hers. Her heart refused to stop pounding against her chest.

Murtagh's hands tore hers from his hair and placed them on his chest before they moved to her waist. Then his lips pursed in response to hers. He took control of her immediately, his hands pulling her towards him and his tongue invading her mouth. Gods, he tasted good.

Murtagh broke it off suddenly. "So, Marin," he began, his voice hoarse, "now that you've paid me back, what do you intend to do?"

"Tha' wasn' payback," she hissed. "I can' pay ya back with sommat I wanna give." Then she kissed him again, savoring every moment. Her hands traveled down his chest until she found the hem of his tunic. Murtagh tensed, his hands wandering to her hips, as hers wandered up his chest, massaging the muscled skin. She climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips.

They broke apart again.

"Wha' d'ya know? I'm taller," she panted as she stared down at his face.

Murtagh looked at her, and for a moment she thought he might laugh.

"You're not taller," he whispered. "You're a little girl."

"I am no'," Marin said.

Murtagh chuckled quietly this time, and he wrapped his hands around her waist. "Look, my hands nearly span your waist, and look how I can lift you." His hands gripped her thighs as he stood with her. "You can't weigh more than seven stone, if that." He set her down on her feet. Marin had to look up at him again. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. "And you can't be more than fifteen hands high. A little girl, I'd say. My little girl." He leaned in to kiss her first on the forehead, then on the lips, and then on the neck. He nipped her there. "A little neck, even. So easily snapped. How did you make it? And better yet, are you really mine? Can I really hold you and keep your lust from dying quickly? How many times has that happened? How many times have you done this when you felt nothing? Do you understand why I don't trust you?"

_Damn 'im, _Marin thought, her throat tightening. Even when his lips were so close to her ear and his fingertips were so close to her breast, he was thinking logically. Maybe he was even right. But she did want this, and she was gaining nothing from it but her own satisfaction.

"I understan'." The words left her mouth before she could stop them. "Bu' I _do_ wan' this, I swear I do. Gods, gimme a chance. Take a risk. _Please._"

She was begging now. A part of her wondered if she'd ever begged before. Maybe for food or her life. Maybe she had begged for this. She couldn't remember.

She kissed him again, more desperately than before. Her hands clung to him, clutching at the fabric of his tunic as her nails dug into his back. Her tongue plundered his mouth, begging him to play with her. She pressed her hips against his. A deep grown from Murtagh was her response.

"Gods, you said you understood," he hissed at her. "Little girl, let go of me."

"I'm no' a lil girl," she said, knowing full well that she sounded exactly like one at that moment.

"No," he agreed. "No, you're not. But you like you are, and that's the problem. How do I know this isn't just a show?"

Silence.

"That's right. I don't," he said. "All I have as your word, and that's not worth as much as I'd like it to be. I've seen you kiss a man for a deal, and I've known other whores."

"I'm no' one o' them anymore," she said. "I don' need t' go back. Why woul' I?"

"You think you can leave the past behind, but it will come back. Again and again. My past will come back to me now that I'm here. It's only a matter of time," Murtagh said. "Probably a matter of hours. I'll need sleep before that, and you need sleep almost as much as I do. Goodnight, Marin."

"Goodnight." She didn't know if she had said it or if Murtagh's voice had just echoed back at her. She'd begged, and he'd rejected her. She walked back to her bedroll while her heart thudded dully against her chest. She felt as though it were filled with lead.

_Tomorrow,_ she told herself. _I'll think on i' tomorrow._

The old habit and her tiredness carried back into a sleep. This time, it was a dreamless one. Only one thing disturbed it. A voice in her head asked, _Don't you ever learn? _

Marin ignored it. If fatigue was driving her to insanity, the cure must be to get more sleep.

Sorry it took me so long. I kept trying to rewrite, ended up making it worse, and then I just decided to leave it.

Celtic Kisses5: Thanks. A lot of things will be revealed in the next few chapters. (At least I hope so.) Sorry about the long update.

xLzM: Thanks.

Frede1993: I'm glad.

Chocolate chipmunk: Thanks, and sorry on the second count.

Narnian Spirte: Thanks. I hope you liked this.

Three Moons: I'm glad you thought so.

AppaAndMomoForever: I'm glad you thought it was feasible.

CelticPuzzleRangerStranger: Thanks.

CaramelBoost: I'm glad that I managed that, at least in your case. And as for the second point, I don't know.

Stripysockz: I've updated this, and the Black on White update will hopefully occur tomorrow.

HadLeeMay: I'm really sorry about the long wait for this one. It was extremely difficult to write.

Blue Eyed Chica: Well, it's a Varden requirement, and she doesn't know how to fight against them, so yeah, she did.


	20. Aftermath

Aftermath

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. Thank you.

Saphira growled very loudly and woke Murtagh. He jerked upward and stared around him Then, inhaling and exhaling slowly, he lay back down. It was a pointless endeavor. No sooner had he closed his eyes than Saphira growled again.

He sat back up and glared at the dragon in annoyance. This was his first night of sleep, and she had to ruin it. Then again, she had saved their lives. Maybe it was only fair that she got to dream.

Murtagh turned his gaze to Eragon and saw that the boy rider was sleeping peacefully. Then again, he had not awoken earlier when Marin had come onto him. The boy was definitely a heavy sleeper.

Very slowly, Murtagh looked from Eragon to Marin. She was sleeping deeply as well, her chest rising and falling with each breath and her lips parted slightly. Unconsciously, he leaned closer to her, his hand reaching out and his mind remembering her taste, and then pulled away when he realized what he was doing.

Unaware of his struggle, the girl groaned slightly in her sleep and shifted position so that the blanket fell away from her body. Murtagh continued to stare at her, taking in her slim waist and small yet firm breasts, and he began to wonder why he had not taken her last night. Then he bit his lip in anger. These lusts could prove dangerous. If she had just been a whore at an, it would have been different. He would have never had to risk seeing her again or any unwarranted emotional attachment. Such a thing could prove dangerous, especially with such a woman. Then Saphira let out another growl, louder than the previous few, and Marin's brow furrowed, distorting her features. She shifted around under the blankets, seemingly trying to get back to sleep. Then her eyes opened.

Marin awoke to find Murtagh's eyes on her, and for a moment, his gaze sent shivers up her spine and made her forget the outcome of last night. Then she remembered everything, and she met his eyes with a glare. Murtagh simply stared back at her, his face blank. Marin's glare faded, but she found that she could not look away. It was as though Murtagh would not permit her to break her stare until he was ready to let her go. And then he did, turning his gaze to Eragon, and the trance was broken.

"Morning," the Rider said to them.

Marin glared at Murtagh, and he ignored it altogether this time. She bit her lip, closed her eyes, and breathed in. Gods, what had she done last night? It had been reckless beyond belief. She was smarter than that. She should have seen that Murtagh had honor, even if he pretended otherwise. And he was proud. Too proud to go to anyone who may not share his desires. He wanted her. She had known it when she had climbed onto his lap.

"What's wrong?" Eragon asked.

Marin looked up and blinked. "Nothin'," she lied.

Eragon furrowed his brow. "You looked like you were upset."

She shrugged and turned away. It was not as though she would ever tell anybody what had happened last night, but if she did, it would most certainly not be Eragon.

"How long have you been awake?" Eragon asked.

"Awhile. I'm surprised Saphira didn't wake you sooner."

"I was tired enough to sleep through a thunderstorm," Eragon replied dryly.

"Ooh, ya've no idea," Marin muttered.

"Was there a thunderstorm?" Eragon asked.

"Ya've go' real good 'earin'," she remarked. Eragon frowned at her and turned to Murtagh.

"There was no thunderstorm, Eragon," was the only the reply he got.

The young rider frowned and asked, "Do you know what time it is in here?"

"No, it's impossible to tell in here," Murtagh replied. His eyes strayed over to her again and only stayed there for a moment before they flicked back to Eragon.

She bit her lip when his glance sent shivers up her spine.

_E turned ya down, girl. Jus' ge' o'er i' an' move on. Ya can do tha', can' ya? _But she couldn't. Not now at least.

Then she found herself resisting the urge to throw something at him.

_Wha's wrong with me? _Marin thought. For a moment she considered going over to join Eragon and Murtagh, but she didn't. They were in their own little world, a world where they understood things like swordplay, riding and how men actually think. And they were somehow content to just sit there and say nothing. That was when she realized just how little she understood about men. She had thought that knowing Jamison and Dante had taught her everything she needed to know, but now she realized that she knew nothing. She did not understand the need to feel like a good and honorable person, and no one around her had those priorities. Gods, she was sixteen, and she knew nothing about a man except for how to arouse him. That was all this trip had done: make her hate herself and fall for someone who was out of her reach. Now she hated everything about it.

"Marin." Murtagh spoke her name before he thought about. She was just sitting there, looking ready to cry for some reason. He did not know if it was because of lack of sleep or if she was distraught over last night. He refused to acknowledge that it could be the last thought. She did not care about him. How could it be in her to care? She had lived for herself for the gods knew how long, and he could see no reason for her to have changed her beliefs. Still, he cared if she was upset, though why, he did not know.

"Wha'?" she asked. He was watching her warily.

"Come here," he said at last. "You look ready to cry."

Then Marin did throw something at him: her pack. Anger affected her aim, and it landed several feet to Murtagh's right.  
"Was that really necessary, Marin?" he asked, his concern utterly gone. She had just proven his thoughts. She did not care about him and was only angry at him for turning her down.

"I' was," she said. "Didn' ya say I 'ad no control once?"

"I didn't, but I don't know why I never remarked on it," he replied. His voice was like ice now, and Marin regretted throwing her pack at him a few minutes ago. Now what was she supposed to throw?

Meanwhile, Eragon put down a lantern he had been examining and looked from one to the other.

"You two were getting along just yesterday. What changed?" he demanded.

The shouts outside the door of their prison relieved Marin and Murtagh of the need to answer. A few seconds later, the doors were flung open, and a dozen warriors marched in. They were closely followed by the bald man and Orik the dwarf.

"You have been summoned by Ajihad, leader of the Varden," the bald man declared. "If you must eat, do so while we march."

Eragon, Murtagh, and Marin stood together, all quarrels forgotten at the sight of a new adversary, if only for the present moment. Eragon was the first to speak. He asked for the return of his weapons and their horses.

The bald man answered, "Your weapons will be returned to you when Ajihad sees fit, not before. And as for your horses, they await you in the tunnel. Now come!"

As he turned to leave, Eragon blurted out, "How is Arya?" This almost made Marin laugh.

"I do not know," the bald man began after a long pause. "The healers are still with her." Then he and Orik left the room. One of the warriors motioned for Eragon to lead the way. Saphira, then Murtagh, and finally Marin trooped out after them. As promised, their horses were waiting for them at the end of the tunnel.

"Goo' ole demon," Marin mumbled as she climbed on Cadoc. The gray horse snorted in offence.

When Eragon tried to climb on Saphira, the bald man snapped at him and told him to ride Snowfire until he was told otherwise.

They continued down the tunnel for hours. Marin ate and thought very little during this time as she spent the whole trip staring at Cadoc's neck and she only glanced up once her twice. She finally did look up when the bald man told Eragon to mount Saphira, and she was glad that she did.

A huge pair of double doors swung open without warning to reveal the most magnificent city she had ever seen. It was a hundred times lovelier than even the richest parts of Dras Leona and much grander than the little of Urû'baen she had seen when they had passed around it. They were surrounded by icicles and columns of rock hundreds of feet high. The wall of the cavern narrowed until they reached a small opening from which a nearly blinding light shown. When she looked, a hazy blue light could be seen in the distance.

"Look well, humans, for no rider has set eyes upon this for nigh on a hundred years. The airy peak under which we stand is Farthen Dûr—discovered thousands of years ago by the father of our race, Korgan, while he tunneled for gold. And in the center stands our greatest achievement: the city built from the purest marble."

Just then, Marin realized that she was gaping and shut her mouth just in time to catch sight of the crowd clustered around the entrance of the tunnel. There were dwarves and people alike, silent and staring at Eragon like one gigantic eye. As their party approached the crowd, Marin caught sight of their faces and realized that they were afraid of Eragon. For a moment the thought seemed ridiculous, but then she remembered how she had first felt around Saphira: amazed and terrified. She had been unable to comprehend that she was actually seeing a creature of legends, and she had been terrified that Eragon or Murtagh would order Saphira to eat her.

Tentatively, Eragon raised a hand, and Marin realized that he was afraid to. She could understand that. Indeed, she had never been so happy to be completely ignored.

At first, nothing happened, and Eragon dropped his hand, embarrassed. Then a cheer broke through the crowd.

"Very good," the bald man told them. "Now start walking."

Saphira stood on her hindquarters and blew a puff of smoke into the air. Marin gulped. What if the crowd suddenly went wild and killed the dragon to stop her from killing them? But to her surprise, the action only intensified the crowd's enthusiasm. Then something even more surprising happened. As Saphira jostled her way along the path, many of the dwarves turned away, their faces more lined than a raisin because of their frowns.

Then her mouth dropped open again. Tronjeim was in sight. White marble seemed to pour over the mountain—so perfectly was it shaped. Countless windows dotted the side, but no chimneys were visible. It seemed as though the city were one giant house with the rooms being allotted to the inhabitants. Two golden creatures—Marin did not know what they were—guarded the gate of the city. More unfamiliar creatures were carved into the ruby-red gates.

When they passed through them, Marin's eyes were drawn upward, and nothing else in the city could draw them back. A huge red gem made up the city of the ceiling. It was carved so wonderfully into a rose that Marin wondered if some god had just copied the jewel when he made the flower. She continued to gape until the bald man told them all to dismount.

Boos echoed through the halls as the party climbed down from their horses and Eragon from Saphira. A dwarf led the three horses away, and they proceeded on foot towards a magnificent pair of cedar doors.

They entered a two-storied study, still made of cedar. Books lined the shelves, and a magnificent desk sat in the center of the room. But it was the man who sat at the desk that drew Marin's attention. He was the easily the tallest and largest man she had ever seen, but that was not what caught her eye. It was his skin. The man's coloring was so dark it was nearly black. The only thing darker that she had ever seen had to be the man's beard and eyebrows. Doubtless his hair would have been every bit as dark, but his head was shaved bald.

"Welcome to Tronjeim, Eragon and Saphira. I am Ajihad. Please seat yourselves," the man said.

Eragon did so, as did Murtagh and Marin, while Saphira sat protectively behind them. Ajihad snapped his fingers, and a bald man identical to the man who had probed her mind stepped out from behind the staircase. Marin's mouth dropped opened again. They were twins, she realized. Then she thought, _'Ellgrin' an' 'ellfire, there's two 'o 'em._

"Your confusion is understandable," Ajihad said. "They are twin brothers. I would tell you their names, but they have none."

Marin stiffened. Back in Dras Leona everyone knew that people who had not been named were cursed by the gods, so people who could not remember what their parents called them often made up names for themselves. If the person did have a name and refused to reveal it, well, it was obvious that they could not be trusted.

Saphira seemed to agree with that sentiment as she hissed with obvious disapproval. Ajihad watched, and the nameless twins retreated under the staircase. The leader of the Varden continued to stare them down, making Marin squirm. She wondered if the twins had told Ajihad about her past. She hoped not. She did not think she could bear his judgment on the matter. However, he said nothing to her. The man's dark gaze settled on Murtagh, who had not relaxed since they had mounted their horses this morning.

"You have placed me in a difficult position by refusing to be examined. You have been allowed into Farthen Dûr because the twins have assured me that they can control you and because of your actions concerning Eragon and Arya. I understand that there are things that you wish to keep hidden in your mind, but as long as you do, we cannot trust you," Ajihad announced.

Then Murtagh made what was possibly the first mistake Marin had seen him make. He spoke, saying, "You wouldn't trust me anyway."

Ajihad's black eyes narrowed instantly. "Though it's been twenty and three years since it last broke upon my ear…I know that voice." Then he stood, and the twins stared at each other, looking alarmed.

_They know,_ Marin realized. But they couldn't. If they had, they would have killed Murtagh on the spot…Wouldn't they?

Meanwhile, Ajihad had not stopped his tirade. "It came from another man, one more beast than human. Get up."

Murtagh stood slowly, and Marin noticed that his breathing had become ragged again. For a moment, she forgot that she had decided to hate him or at least get over him. She pitied him again.

"Take off your shirt," Ajihad spat. Orik grunted in surprise, and Marin's heart rate sped up. Somehow, she didn't think this had anything to do with her fear.

Murtagh did so, and Marin stared at him through her eyelashes. She could feel her heart hammering against her chest, and she could nearly feel the skin of his stomach beneath her fingers.

"Now turn around." Murtagh did so, and Ajihad breathed his name. Then he turned to the twins and demanded, "Did you know of this?"

They both bowed their heads and said, "We discovered his name in the minds of Eragon and the girl, but we did not suspect that this _boy_ was the son of one as powerful as Morzan. It never occurred—"

"And you didn't tell me?" Ajihad shouted. Then he waived aside their explanations. "We will discuss it later." Then he turned to Murtagh and asked him if he still refused to be probed.

"Yes," Murtagh said sharply as he slipped back into his tunic. "I won't let anyone inside my head."

Ajihad leaned forward, and Marin thought he looked tired. "There will be unpleasant consequences if you don't. Unless the twins can certify that you aren't a threat, we cannot give you credence, despite, and perhaps because of, the assistance you have given Eragon. Without that verification, the people here, human and dwarf alike, will tear you apart if they learn of your presence. I'll be forced to keep you confined at all times—as much for your protection as for others. It will only get worse once the dwarf king, Hrothgar, learns demands custody of you. Don't force yourself into that situation when it can be easily avoided."

A part of Marin wanted to plead with him to give in, but she knew that she would do no good. He would not listen to her. She might have persuaded him to revealing his secret before, but she doubted she could change his mind now.

And as she had expected, he shook his head stubbornly and refused, stating, "No…even if I were to submit, I would still be treated like a leper and an outcast. All I wish is to leave. If you let me do that peacefully, I'll never reveal your location to the empire."

"What will happen if you are captured and brought before Galbatorix?" Ajihad said. Then he answered his own question. "He would extract every secret from your mind, no matter how strong you may be. Even if you could resist him, how can we trust that you won't rejoin him in the future? I cannot take that chance."

"Will you hold me prisoner forever?" Murtagh asked, straightening. A hint of apprehension had entered his voice.

Ajihad replied that he would only be imprisoned so long as he refused to be examined.

_An' tha's fore'er,_ Marin thought.

Murtagh stood staring at the ground for a moment. His breathing hitched, and he clenched his tunic in his fists. Finally he spoke. "My mind is the one sanctuary that has not been stolen from me. Men have tried to breach it before, but I've learned to defend it vigorously, for I am only safe within my innermost thoughts. You have asked for one thing I cannot give, least of all to those two." He practically spat the last word and gestured at the twins, who were still partially hidden beneath the winding staircase. "Do what you will, but know this: death will take me before I'll expose myself to their probing."

Admiration glinted in Ajihad's eyes, and for one moment Marin wondered—or was it hoped—if the Varden's leader would give him his freedom. Then he said, "I'm not surprised by your choice, though I had hoped otherwise…Guards." And so Murtagh's doom was sealed. The cedar doors burst open, and several armed warriors rushed in. "Take him to a windowless room, and bar the door securely. Post six men by the entrance, and allow no one inside until I come to see him. Do not speak to him either."

With that they pushed him away.

Eragon mouthed the words, "I'm sorry," and Marin stared after him. She wanted to blame him for not letting anyone in his mind, but she could not. It was his choice, she realized, and it was sure to cause him trouble, but then again, maybe letting them into his mind would cause him worse trouble. Murtagh was right after all; there would always been a wall of hostility. She had seen their faces. They had distrusted Eragon, who might be their only hope. How would they treat Morzan's son?

When the sounds of the guards' footsteps had faded, Ajihad ordered everyone except Eragon and Saphira out of the room. Marin quickly stood to comply, but Orik said, "Sir, the king will want to know of Murtagh, and there is the matter of my insubordination…"

"I will tell Hrothgar myself," Ajihad said. "As for your actions…wait outside until I call for you. And don't let the twins get away either. I'm not done with them either."

Marin quickly followed the dwarf and the twins out of the room. For what might have been ten minutes or ten hours, the twins and Orik simply stared each other down, each daring the other to speak first. It was nearly as bad as being caught in the middle of a brawl, and she looked from one to the other, hoping that someone would just say something. After all, Ajihad was bound to take ages with Eragon, and she did not feel like enduring this much longer. Finally, after a minute or to of building her courage, she decided to ask Orik a question.

"So…" she began as soon as they had all left. "Wha' shoul' I do?"

"Stay here," Orik said. "Ajihad did not tell me what to do with you."

Marin nodded, and the silence resumed again. She began to drum her fingers against the cedar doors. She tried to think of any songs that she knew. Just as the first lines of "There once was a man from Inzelbêth" came to her however, one of the twins spoke up.

"You'll pay for what you did, dwarf," he said. "You know the penalty."

"Would it have done to let a rider drown then?" Orik demanded, but there was a very low note of fear in his voice.

"That is one thing. Interfering with my examination however…" This time it was the other twin who spoke.

_So tha's the one,_ Marin thought. She kept her face downwards and only raised her eyes to look them in face. She was trying to see if she could tell the difference between the two, but it was impossible.

"There was no way for me to know who he was. I was not the one who knew his name," Orik retorted.

"Are you accusing me of something?" the twin asked.

Marin looked past them. She wondered is she could sneak off while they were arguing and come back later. She was hungry, and they had not been given any food. Perhaps somebody could tell her where the kitchens were…

"Stay where you are!" the other twin snapped. "Ajihad has not dealt with you yet."

"Wha's there t' deal with?" Marin asked sulkily as she sunk to the floor.

"The matter of where to keep you and the matter of whether or not your…previous occupation should be allowed to get out. It is a matter of protecting the rider's reputation," the other twin said.

"I didn' do anything with 'im," she said.

"The rest of the Varden does not know that," the twin continued.

"Bu' will they care?" she asked.

"The rider is a beacon for the future, a symbol of honor and valor," his brother put in.

"It would not do to have it know that he consorted with your like," the other finished. "If he were simply…experienced in such matter, it would be fine, but if you are brought into the picture…"

"Are you suggesting blackmailing the rider, Egraz Carn?" Orik cut in.

"I am suggesting that the girl behaves herself, Orik," one twin began, and the other finished with, "and that she suggest the same to the rider."

"Ajihad would doubtless say the same," the first added.

"Wha' did I do t' ya?" she asked.

"You were insolent," he replied.

"Well, I was in kinda a bad mood. I 'adn' slep' proper since las' nigh', and I 'adn' really eaten much, an' I 'ad almos' drowned, almos' been eaten by Kull…"

"Kull are not cannibals," the twin said.

"Oh," Marin said, feeling incredibly ignorant. "Well, they still woulda killed me."

"Hardship is no excuse for insolence," the twin said smugly.

"Leave her alone, Egraz Carn," Orik said.

"What are you hoping for, Orik? As short as she is, she's still taller than you. But then maybe you'd prefer her that way. Be warned that she's been used, so her cunt might not be small enough for you to fill her."

Orik's mouth dropped open. "You—you cannot—that was—you are…By Helzvhog, do you really know so little of me and mine race?" Orik said.

Marin groaned. He had just dug himself into a bigger hole. And sure enough, another jape followed.

"Well, if you could fill her, I am sorry, Orik. I really would not know that."

"I do not want her! She is human and young! Akh Gunterâz Dorzada, she cannot be more than sixteen. And I am betrothed, and you—I gave you no cause. Ajihad shall hear of your latest insults," Orik shouted.

"Oh, but you did Orik," one said.

"I doubt that you would tell Ajihad of how we insulted your manhood," the other finished.

Orik had barely opened his mouth to retort when Ajihad called his name. The dwarf hurried through the doors, and Marin prayed to the gods in the mountain that it would be very short business. She did not want to be left alone long with those two. Thankfully, the twins' conversation revolved around Orik and what Ajihad would do, and Orik returned in about two minutes with Eragon. The twins shut up as soon as the dwarf exited the study, and they went in quickly, their heads already partly inclined.

I'm sorry about this. I want to get to the good stuff, but I feel as though I'll lose something if I skip huge chunks of the book. I do have good news though. Something happens next chapter. Anyway, here are the responses.

Celtickisses5: Thanks. I was worried about it.

HadLeeMay: Really? Well, that's good then.

CelticPuzzleRangerStranger: Thanks.

Kittycatssoul: Thanks.

JaBoyYa: I did.

Mangos: Yes, it is. At least for a time.

.atrumangelus.forevermore.: Well, I tried to explain his reasoning just a bit in this chapter. I mean, he's not all that trusting, is he?

Padfoot and Stacey: I am too. Something exciting needed to happen.

Prettybella: You were the first person to tell me. It was definitely interesting. And I'm glad that you enjoyed this chapter. I hope that you liked this one.

Stripysockz: Yeah, I wasn't planning on that happening, but then it did. It does make sense to me, and I hope that I did it right.

Dragonflame-05: Yeah, that's all true. And I'll give you a rain check on the last one.

xLzM: I won't. Well, I kind of did, but here is this chapter.

Blue-Eyed Chica: Thanks.

Friendly Legolas Sporker: I hope that this was soon enough. I don't fancy being followed by heliopaths. Nice HP reference by the way. I love Luna Lovegood. And I love your penname.

MysticLegend11: Well, it didn't take me as long to add in what you suggested. You are most definitely right. It did need some kind of reaction from Murtagh. Thank you for beta-ing. I know I sometimes frustrate you, but I'll try not to.


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